Summer Time
by buffybabe42
Summary: Brooke leaves Tree Hill and Lucas behind for the summer. Little does she know, she runs into a familiar face in California who is attending basketball camp. Lucas and Brooke must deal with their feelings and Nathan when she returns. LBNB Updated APR 2
1. Chapter 1

Brooke breathed a sigh of relief as she boarded the plane to take her to California. The ride to the airport was like pure torture as all thoughts remained on Lucas. Lucas Scott; the blonde-haired poet with the piercing, blue eyes. Every time she had looked into those eyes of his she drowned in a vast ocean, which she was incapable of pulling herself out of. There was no one to rescue her from her turmoil.

"Welcome to flight 308, non-stop to Los Angeles, CA." Brooke's thoughts were immediately interrupted at the sound of the airplane intercom announcing her flight's departure. Brooke clung to the side of her seat in first class and sighed. Turning her eyes to the moving black pavement outside her window, Brooke once again became lost in her own thoughts of a vanished romance. She was leaving her beloved home for the summer. There was only one Tree Hill. Lucas had mentioned that to her once. She smiled to herself as thoughts of Lucas entered her mind again.

Brooke felt her stomach do somersaults as the plane ascended into the sky and gripped the arms on her chair in anticipation. She was never was the best flyer and much rather preferred solid land over the vacant skies. Yes, she adored gravity. She looked up at a pretty, blonde flight attendant standing in the aisle demonstrating the proper technique of using an oxygen mask. Brooke glanced around and noticed other passengers ignoring the flight safety instructions because they were either too engrossed with the morning periodical or their headphones were drowning out all signs of reality. With an extreme sense of guilt for shunning all flight safety instruction through her previous years as a flyer, Brooke hurriedly snatched up a copy of the safety pamphlet and pretended to follow along.

"You know, no one reads those things." Brooke heard a raspy voice out of the corner of her right ear and looked at the man sitting next to her in the aisle seat. He was a chubby, older man with a ruddy complexion that reminded her of Santa Claus. All he was missing was the red suit, the beard, and the hat. Atop of his round head sat a sandy, gray toupee that would lend Donald Trump some credibility. Brooke politely smiled at the man. After all, her society parents always taught her to be polite to strangers (you never know how much money they may have), while most other parents taught their children to stay away from strangers. It's a wonder Brooke had not been kidnapped up until this point in her life.

The chubby man raised his eyebrows and laughed at Brooke's sudden attempt to become aware of her safety. Brooke flashed her million dollar watt smile. "I guess it's better to be safe than sorry," she replied. The stranger seemed kind, and Brooke was a conversationalist after all. Her philosophy in life was, "God gave us mouths for a reason. So, you might as well use them while you can." Although she realized that her philosophical phrase could be misinterpreted in so many ways. Curse the foul minds of youthful America.

"You from California?" the man asked.

"Uh, no I am not. Actually, my parents just moved there. I'm visiting them for the summer." Brooke rolled her eyes at the thought of her parents.

"So, you're from North Carolina then?" the man assumed. Brooke nodded her head indicating she was indeed from the humid state. "What town?" he asked.

"I'm from this really small town called Tree Hill. Have you heard of it?"

The chubby man raised his eyebrows in puzzlement. "No, actually I haven't. But why don't you tell me about it," he insisted.

Brooke hesitated as she pictured her home town and smiled. "Well," she started, "Tree Hill is absolutely breathtaking. It's right next to the ocean." Brooke spoke to the man as if she were reading an excerpt from Mark Twain novels describing the luscious greenery that surrounded Tom Sawyer's Missouri home. She continued with her description. "And at night the street lights reflect off the rive,r creating this sort of dazzling plethora of colors from green to blue. It has great restaurants," Brooke paused, "oh, and great people." Brookes hazel eyes sparked as she described Tree Hill to this stranger, and when she realized the intimate content of her words, she immediately began to blush with embarrassment. The man chuckled to her amazement as she looked at her flight mate.

"You know, miss, you sound like a travel brochure." Brooke looked down at her jean-clad legs in mortification. "But," the man continued, "from the way you make this place sound, I can tell you really love it there. Heck, makes me want to visit. I'm sure you can't wait to get back." The man nodded and smiled at Brooke appreciatively and turned his interest back to a magazine article concerning gastric bypass surgery. Brooke sighed and turned her attention to the window as she watched the clouds whiz by. She wondered why she had left Tree Hill in the first place. Well, it's not like she had a choice. Her parents were her guardians and had every say to how Brooke lived her life and who she lived her life with. Unfortunately, her parents wanted Brooke to life her life with them. When she lived in Tree Hill, her parents were gone the majority of the time, but most importantly, the major portion of her life. Her parents had even forgotten her seventeenth birthday! Being the confrontational person Brooke was, she had approached her parents in anger at their lack of memory. Her mother sat her down on Brooke's bed and spoke to Brooke as if she were five again, explaining that her father and herself were out of town and could not help remembering such an inconsequential date as the birth of their only child. However, her mother would hand over her husband's credit card, and Brooke would escape into her own little world of purchasing every piece of merchandise in sight. Shopping was a relief when Brooke could drag her best friend, Peyton, down to the mall and forget for about her parents' inconsiderate ways towards their daughter. Yet, it only provided a temporary relief, and she would come home to an empty house to find her parents gone on another business trip. All the money and clothes in the world weren't going to buy Brooke a pair of loving parents. So, she spent most of her time at Peyton's, and Peyton and her dad had become Brooke's substitute family as she spent holidays and weekends at her best friend's abode. Brooke did not know what she would've down without Peyton. It's amazing she had not swallowed herself up in jealousy and greed, as her parents had done. Peyton was her anchor. Brooke always leaned on her for stability and structure in her life, and Peyton would always come through. Brooke cherished her friendship with her curly, blonde-haired friend.

Suddenly, Brooke had an overwhelming urge to demand the pilot turn the place back around towards Tree Hill. She did want to return, but knew she couldn't. She wished she were on a train instead. At least on a train she could pull the emergency brake and the train would come to a halt. Brooke thought she needed to invest in an airplane emergency brake. Boy, this year was definitely hard on hearts. She had lost her boyfriend to her best friend of all people, yet managed to forgive both Lucas and Peyton and reconcile. Even Nathan and Haley had their share of heartbreak, a huge disappointment to Brooke. Naley, as the couple became fondly known as, was Brooke's inspiration, and she strived to love someone and to have someone love her back the way these two loved one another. They even expressed their love for each other by getting married while barely out of diapers. All couples aspired to Nathan and Haley's legacy, especially Broke. So, imagine her surprise when Haley up and left her hunky husband in order to pursue her career as a singer. If that didn't make matters worse, she had walked out with a new beau on her arm, a cocky rock singer by the name of Chris Keller. Brooke cried for Nathan and understood the pain he felt over his wife's betrayal. Although Brooke had never married, she comprehended the felling of being betrayed by someone you loved and trusted. Lucas. "Oh, here we go again," Brooke thought to herself. This was going to be a very long flight.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chessfreak31- I appreciate the comment and I understand you have not see any action yet. However, I have decided that I am using the first 3 chapters to open up the story for the three characters. The second chapter will be about Lucas and his present state of mind, and the third will be about Nathan…..Please be patient, but action will probably start to take place in chapter 4, and I do plan on updating regularly.._

_Gerky , Easilyobssessed, and The O.C. Addict: Thank you for your wonderful reviews. I still haven't decided who Brooke should ultimately end up with, but that is the fun part about writing, you decide as you go along. _

_Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I always look forward to them. Keep on reviewing and I will keep on writing….._

Chapter 2

The sun peeped through the window shades into Lucas Scott's room. A matt of

blonde hair lay on his pillow as he stared at the peeled ceiling and rolled over to notice

the digital clock sitting by his bed. The clock displayed 6:30 a.m., but Lucas' mind read

midnight. Lucas groaned as he realized that he wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon.

After taking Peyton home the night before, Lucas fell into bed with an extreme

emotional exhaustion and with a strong intent to forget about the day's occurrences.

Funny, how he couldn't get any of the day's happenings out of his mind.

Lucas rolled over on his back and sighed as he stared at the white dollhouse

perched upon the dresser near the foot of his bed; the house with the red door. Brooke

Davis, the girl behind the red door. Yesterday came rushing back to Lucas as he thought

of her. She had tearfully left him standing helplessly in the very room that she had stayed

in for those few precious months. Originally, she was going to leave Tree Hill before the

school year had officially ended. However, Lucas had managed to convince his mother

to convince her parents to allow her to stay in Tree Hill, provided that Brooke lived with

a responsible adult, his mother.

Lucas shuddered with excitement as he realized he was sleeping in the exact same

bed where Brooke had slept the night before. He could still smell the remnants of

Brooke's vanilla-scented perfume linger in the air and the smell of Brooke's fresh

shampoo on his pillows. Yes, she had left Tree Hill to be with her money-grubbing

parents for a summer in the O.C. Lucas recalled the events that had occurred the prior day

surrounding Brooke's departure. He had discovered his father, Dan, was scheming his

customers at the car dealership by charging them more than the asking price and in the

process, he was pocketing the rest. Lucas then gave Dan's wife, Deb, a ledger that

revealed Dan's machinations and would provide her fuel to put out the fire that was Dan

Scott and put him away for good.

After confronting Dan about the money he had found in the ceiling in Dan's

office at Scott Motors, Dan claimed the whole scheme was a ploy to test Lucas' loyalties

towards him. He even demonstrated his confession by showing Lucas that the bills found

in the ceiling were in fact counterfeit. Lucas thought he had accomplished what he

intended to do: bring down his bastard of a father. Yet, there was one person that

prevented Lucas from feeling such victory, his brother, Nathan.

Nathan. Lucas groaned at the thought of Nathan. After Lucas' best friend, Haley,

left his brother, Nathan decided to cut his losses and move back in with Dan. Nathan

made Lucas promise to no longer pursue the destruction of Dan. But Lucas could not

keep his promise and instead incriminated Dan for all of the pain that he had caused his

loved ones. When Nathan discovered the truth about Lucas and his vendetta, he was too

late. Nathan had severed all ties with him, and Lucas was left in the dark.

To make matters worse, Lucas had to say goodbye Brooke. Brooke Davis; the

girl that he shared such an agonizing history with. She was the same girl that he had

come to love. He didn't know how it happened, but it did. He had once had her, but then

lost her after she exposed his infatuation with her best friend, Peyton. He had made the

mistake of cheating on Brooke with her best friend; a lapse in judgment, if you will. This

very same mistake would be the biggest regret of his life. And he had made a lot of

mistakes, but nothing impaired him as to the extent of his betrayal to Brooke. Despite of

Lucas' and Peyton's disloyalty, Brooke had enough heart to forgive them both, and they

had all remained friends.

Shortly thereafter, Lucas began to notice slight changes in Brooke. He had

always been aware of Brooke's large capacity to care for others, but she began to show

everyone a side to her that no one had ever seen. She was becoming an even greater

person than he could ever be. She was courageous. In spite of all of the naysayers, she

ran for school president and actually won. She exemplified loyalty when she stuck by

him during and after Nathan's hospital stint from the car accident. Suddenly, Lucas

began to see her in a different light. Lucas was falling in love with all of Brooke's

qualities. She was stunningly beautiful with her long, brunette locks, almond, brown,

eyes, and a smile that would make any man go weak in the knees. Though he was always

aware of her physical beauty, he began to fall in love with her inner-beauty.

Lucas had tried on several occasions to suppress his growing feelings for Brooke.

He began to date a new student named Anna. At that time, Brooke had been dating

Anna's conceited brother, Felix. Ironically, Nathan of all people had recognized Lucas'

feelings and instructed his brother to tell Brooke how he felt. Lucas quickly informed

Anna of his feelings for another girl, officially cementing his reputation as a jackass, and

the two soon parted ways.

That very night, with an overwhelming sense of his feelings for Brooke, he went

to her house with every intention of telling her how he felt about her. Little did he know,

Brooke would be with none other than Felix. Lucas had spied Brooke and Felix kissing

when he approached her doorway to her bedroom. It had been raining that night, but

Lucas hardly noticed. His clothes were drenched and he just walked away from the scene

of the crime, completely unaware of his surroundings. As he stumbled through the wet

streets, Lucas felt hot tears sting his eyes and, he was overcome with emotion. That

should've been him kissing Brooke, he thought to himself. Well, too late now. That

incident would definitely go down as the single most painful night of his life. Until now,

that is.

Luckily, Brooke broke things off with Felix after she realized his true motives.

But Lucas never had the courage to tell Brooke of his feelings. He was denied again and

again. He began to feel Brooke slip away from him when she discovered a box of

Peyton's stuff he kept in his closet; stuff she was never meant to find. Then the day came

for Brooke to leave for California, and he was there to see her off. Minutes before she

left, he had astounded Brooke and even himself when he kissed her. It was an earth-

shattering kiss that revealed all the feelings that he had long withheld. Lucas told her that

he wanted to be with her and explained that he had kept the box of memorabilia to

remind himself of the anguish he had caused Brooke. He had hoped by telling her this

that it would erase Brooke's suspicions of him still being interested in Peyton. He knew

he didn't want Peyton. He wanted Brooke. He knew that. It was that inexplicit feeling

in his gut that grew stronger day by day. Awakening or sleeping, Lucas' thoughts were

always on Brooke. He told a stunned Brooke of his feelings for her despite her only

wanting a friendship. Brooke was speechless, and Lucas felt the tension in the room

when the taxi cab outside was honking, signaling Brooke's departure. Before Brooke

left, he had become desperate to know if they would ever have a chance again; if she

could give him another chance. Lucas believed with all his heart that he would never

hurt Brooke again, but Brooke had to leave and never answered his wishes. Damn, that

taxi cab and his own bad timing.

Lucas sighed and glanced at the clock that read 6:45 a.m. He shut his eyes

surrounding himself in darkness and dreams of Brooke's return. This was going to be a

long day in the life of Lucas Scott.


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay, well here is the Nathan-based third chapter, a lot longer than the first two. There is some action in it, so don't fret. The following chapters will focus more on dialogue and action. I hope you enjoy this one._

_Thank you to all my reviewers. Your input is very much appreciated and a key factor in me continuing to write these chapters. Thanks to The O.C Addict, Emery, Easily Obsessed, and gerky. Please keep reviewing. I seriously appreciate all of you sit through my chapters…..here's hoping to more review. Thanks Guys!_

_**Chapter 3**_

He watched as the ball fell through the net. The ball never even grazed the rim of the basketball hoop. Nathan felt the rough exterior of the ball as it bounced off the backboard and into his capable hands. Tomorrow was the big day, and he would leave Tree Hill. Nathan watched as the ball dropped through the hoop once again, and he ran up to the board to rebound as he effortlessly laid it in.

Tomorrow was the beginning of his summer. It was to be a summer containing drills, practices, and team-building skills; basketball camp that is. That year, Nathan had received a letter inviting him to the High Flyers, a prestigious basketball camp, for the summer. Initially, Nathan was hesitant to attend the camp. As much as he loved basketball, he had loved his wife even more. Haley was his priority. He had come to an intersection in his life in which he could either turn left or right. She was his right. All hopes for a dream of a summer playing basketball were crushed as he deliberately chose to remain with Haley. Even incessant badgering from Whitey, his high school coach, couldn't convince Nathan to abandon the woman of his dreams. In fact, he never even considered basketball as his dream anymore. He had married his dream at the ripe, old age of 16. Her name was Haley James.

The basketball veered off course as Nathan shot, and it bounced off the tip of the rim at the thought of Haley; beautiful Haley. She had changed his life for the better and for the worse. The two had met under unforeseen circumstances. Nathan needed a tutor because his grades were threatening his position on the Tree Hill High basketball team. Much to her disenchantment, Haley became his tutor. Conveniently, Haley was also his brother's best friend. What better way to aggravate Lucas into submission than by dating his best friend? Timing was of the utmost importance. And boy did his timing ever prove so erroneous. Unbeknownst, Nathan would fall hard for his lovely tutor, and his life would alter drastically.

Haley was everything he wasn't. She was shy, honest, and naive. Her innocence clashed with Nathan's outgoing, manipulative, and arrogant ways. They were complete opposites, yet they connected. Others were astonished when Nathan and Haley became inseparable. Haley had managed to completely turn his life around without any real effort on her part. She accomplished this by being herself and by convincing him that under his rough exterior was a good man with potential. Others, including his brother, Lucas, began to take notice of this. Nathan had never believed he and Lucas could ever understand one another. The only thing the brothers had in common was the fact that they shared the same father. That was until Haley offhandedly drew the two together. The brothers began to realize what they did have in common: Haley. Shortly after this discovery, Nathan and Lucas became fast friends and accepted the fact that they did have more in common aside from Haley and sharing the same gene pool. Aside for a mutual penchant for basketball, Lucas and Nathan both shared a hatred for their father, Dan. Nathan remembered nights when he and Lucas would sit back, relax, and rant about Dan and their common revulsion of him. In conclusion, Lucas and Nathan had finally become not only brothers, but good friends as well. But none of that mattered anymore; not Haley and sure as hell, not Lucas.

Nathan squinted up at the sun bearing down on him and wiped his brow of perspiration. Haley was plaguing him, and he began to wonder how he ever got involved in this predicament. Oh yeah, marrying Haley. That was when all the problems started. He had asked her to marry him on the spur of the moment. He had been a spontaneous dumb ass. He defied his parents by proclaiming emancipation, purchasing his own apartment, and by marrying his childhood sweetheart. It was a welcome environment and provided Nathan a shelter from the wrath of his father.

The first couple months of marriage were amazing as the couple bonded in newlywed bliss. Nathan assumed if he and Haley could conquer that on-line porn surfing incident, his mother and father's intervention, and everyone else's opinions of their marriage, they could get through any obstacles that the gods would throw their way. Those had been great times. Unfortunately, fate had a funny way of rearing its ugly head. Haley had begun experimenting with her music, and a fellow by the name of Chris Keller knocked on their door, threatening to dissolve Haley and Nathan's marriage. Chris Keller. Nathan's muscles flexed as his grip tightened around the ball in irritation. That bastard!

Chris Keller was an aspiring musician who played the guitar like it was his third arm. He was cocky, rude, and blunt; everything Nathan hated, and everything Nathan used to be. Chris began to take an interest in Haley's music and eventually convinced her to work with him in the studio, although, Nathan was adamant that Chris was not only fascinated with her music, but that Chris was also attracted to his latest ingénue. As soon as Chris became an active person in Haley's life, she became a different person. She began lying to Nathan about her whereabouts and even showed up at their prom late because she had been with whom else, Chris. Nathan soon discovered that Chris and Haley had kissed: very un-Haley like. And before one could blink an eye, Haley got on a tour bus with Chris and drove out his life.

Nathan was left in devastation at his abandonment and soon resorted to his former self, which involved consuming vast amounts of alcohol and public displays of his drunken grief. As a result, Nathan got arrested for drunk driving. In a last attempt to save his marriage and with the encouragement of his mother, Nathan drove cross-country to confront his wife with a possible reconciliation. He remembered he could hardly recognize her with her new status as a rock star. He thought that maybe stardom had gotten to her and overshadowed her feelings for him. Nathan caught her off guard backstage at one of her concerts and grew tense as he could hear the crowd emphatically chanting "Haley, Haley, Haley." In an awkward embrace, Nathan basked in the smell of her lavender-scented neck, and they parted. Nathan professed his love to a bemused Haley, and she drove a stake through his heart when she claimed they had made a mistake by getting married at such a young age. Then he saw it: a ring less finger. Ouch, another stab through the heart. A few more awkward words were exchanged, and Haley went onstage to perform one of her random ditties. Of course, never disappoint the fan, Nathan thought.

Heartbroken, Nathan drove home in his trusty, decrepit hooptie of a Honda, but not before making a pit stop at a Georgian bar, where he found himself lost in a midst of beers and dancing waitresses. There, he ran into Taylor, Haley's sister. In a drunken passion and rage, Nathan almost had sex with her, but stopped himself and continued his long journey home; the longest journey of his life.

To provide a distraction for him, Nathan's mom enlisted the help of his Uncle Coop, a professional racecar driver. Uncle Coop introduced Nathan to his world of fast cars and cheap women. Next thing he knew, Nathan hurdled his car into the racetrack wall after speeding around the track at over 180 miles per hour. He remembered the countless questions the came his way after the accident, which he never viewed as an accident. Why? Nathan knew the reason of the crash, and it was evident to everyone else the reason to his self-defacing: Haley. He figured if you can't live with her, you can't live without her. He had opted for the latter.

During his stay in the hospital, Nathan was in a trance-like state. He dreamed that Lucas and his roles were switched, a sort of day in the life of, if you will. Lucas played the part of the rich aristocrat, and he was the poor greaser. Best of all, Haley was Nathan's best friend, as Haley was Lucas' best friend in reality. Yet, while still in Lucas' position, he and Haley seemed to have that precious bond of implicit, romantic love. Basically, it was sexual tension one could cut with a knife. He also saw his mother, who had blamed him for his uprising, in a different light, without the likes of Dan Scott. It was definitely a wakeup call, if there was such a thing.

Awakening from his slumber, Nathan arose with a new appreciation for life; his mother and basketball. After much debate, Nathan moved back in with her father as his mother went into rehabilitation for a dependency for painkillers. He had a new intent on life and yearned to follow in his dreams by accepting a position with the High Flyers. In the process of moving back in with Dan, Nathan signed a petition for the annulment of his marriage to Mrs. Haley James Scott. He wanted to forget about the past and move on with his future, as Haley had obviously done herself. It was during this painful ordeal that Nathan discovered Lucas had lied to him about Haley and Dan. Lucas, the one person in the world he thought he could trust, promised he would no longer attempt to incriminate Dan. Nathan wanted his father, mother, and himself to be a family once again, and he wouldn't be able to do that with Dan in jail. But Lucas never kept his promise. Lucas also betrayed Nathan by going to New York to see Haley and bring back signed annulment papers, while allowing Nathan no knowledge of his little pow-wow with his wife. In rapid fashion, Nathan cut Lucas out of his life. Lucas was no longer his brother nor his friend.

Finally, his mother had come home after completing her stint in rehab, and all was well. That was until he opened the door to find a distressed-looking Haley standing on his front porch. The confrontation was still fresh in his mind.

"Hi." Haley had managed to blurt out as tears sprang to her eyes. Nathan was astounded. Here he was trying to get a head start on his trip to California loading his

suitcases, and here stood the woman who had abandoned him languidly looking up at him with those big Bambi eyes of hers.

"Haley, what are you doing here?" Nathan asked in bewilderment.

"I want to come home, Nathan." Tears slid down her round face. Her hair was loosely piled atop her head in a disheveled ponytail. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, probably from crying prior to her arrival, Nathan thought to himself. She looked up at Nathan from her position on the steps below him with yearning.

"Yeah, well Hales, you must be lost because you don't live here. Or did you forget that too?" he sneered. Suddenly Nathan reverted back to her former self. His rage increased when she observed Nathan grasping the doorknob so tautly that his knuckles turned white. Haley eyes widened as she stepped off the porch, fearing Nathan's livid approach. A moment of silence ensued before Haley attempted to speak again.

"Nathan, I am…"

"Nathan, we have to go." Haley words were interrupted as Nathan's mother brushed past him in the doorway appearing quite anxious. Ignoring Haley, Nathan turned towards his mother, but she was already half way to the car before he could respond.

"Mom, what happened?" Nathan ran past a dejected Haley and followed his mother out to the car. She hurriedly opened the driver's door and looked up at Nathan with motherly concern in her eyes as her voiced wavered.

"Your father has been in an accident. We have to get to Scott Motors," she stated. Without prying any further, Nathan nodded his head in understanding and hopped into the passenger seat as his mother started the engine. She finally took notice of Haley's presence when she rolled down her window and looked in Haley's direction. Haley was still standing hopelessly on the bottom step of the porch in a baffled state of mind as she looked at Deb.

"Haley, come on," Deb yelled as she waved Haley to the vehicle. In response to Deb's invitation, Haley got into the backseat without argument. Deb threw the car into drive and drove through the streets of Tree Hill haphazardly. Silence engulfed the car, and Nathan gazed at his mother with concern. He could feel Haley's presence as she seemed keen on burning holes in the back of his head with her piercing stare. Yet, the car ride to Scott Motor remained deadly quiet.

Nathan saw a lot that night; including his father's dealership being consumed by raging flames and him being brought out to the ambulance. He was hardly recognizable with his face covered in cuts, bruises and soot. But he could instantly distinguish those eyes. Thos beady, little eyes stared out from beneath the soot and his matt of black hair plastered to his forehead. He could recall the red and blue of the sirens as he stared up at the burning building in a daze. He remembered how Haley instinctually grabbed his hand in assurance and support. Nathan held on to that hand for a good time until the ambulance screamed away, and until he realizes whose hand it was.

He returned home that night fatigued. He was exhausted of having Haley by his side all night and not being able to hold her. What's worse, his mother offered Haley to stay at their house until her living situation was resolved. Haley reluctantly agreed. Deb eyed the tension between the couple as they both stood on separate sides of the living room.

"You can sleep on the couch, Haley. I have some fresh linen in the closet and some pillows." Deb attempted to break the silence. Haley looked appreciatively at Deb.

"Thank you, Mrs. Scott." She executed a tight-lipped smile intended for Deb, who returned the smile with a discomfited nod of the head. Ill at ease, Nathan nodded at Haley and left her standing in the room hugging herself. He could still feel her eyes on his back as he entered his room and fell into bed. His eyelids were heavy with sleep as he closed them. But Nathan's potential sleep was interrupted when he heard a light rap on his bedroom door. He hastily sat up on his bed on the alert and observed Haley sheepishly standing in the doorway. She was wearing a pair of massive, red and white flannel pajamas that enveloped her tiny frame, and on her feet were a pair of fuzzy, pink slippers. She looked absolutely adorable in bedtime mode. Nathan swore he could feel his heart skip a beat.

"Nathan, we need to talk." Nathan sighed and looked down at the floor before returning his attention to Haley and nodded.

"Well, I guess now is as good a time as any." He paused and gestured towards the chair as an indication to Haley. Haley grudgingly approached the chair and seated herself on the edge of the hard armchair. She shuddered as she felt the harsh, cold surface against her rear. It was apparent to Nathan the girl was nervous as she had the inherent habit of picking at her cuticles during bouts of stress. Nathan remembered a time when he used to scold her for her bad habit, which was evident during the week of finals. She must've realized Nathan was watching her in cuticle mode because she suddenly stopped and folded her hands together to place on her knees self consciously. Haley looked up at Nathan from her previous view of Nathan's Air Jordan sneakers.

"Nathan, I am so sorry but..." Nathan rolled his eyes and angrily interrupted one of many of Haley's apologies. He stood up and walked towards the window.

"C'mon Hales. You and I both know that you are sorry. But, what exactly are you sorry for?" he paused. "Kissing Chris or abandoning me?" Nathan's back was to Haley as he stared out his window at the starry, night sky.

"I made a mistake. I'm sorry for everything, Nathan," she pleaded. "And I've come back to prove that to you. I still want to be with you." Haley crossed the room and stood beside Nathan. "Nathan," she paused as she noted Nathan's attention was focused on the scenery outside his bedroom window. "Will you please look at me?" she implored. Nathan sighed and turned to face Haley. She could see Nathan's frustration in his face. The throbbing vein in his forehead was ready to explode.

"I love you, Nathan. That's all the matters." Haley impulsively wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled an unsuspecting Nathan to her in a hug of regret. Nathan stood there dumbfounded with his arms remaining at his sides rejecting Haley's embrace. Haley realized this, pulled away instantly and took a step back. She gazed intently at Nathan's face as if searching for an answer for his reaction to her declaration of love. Haley gathered Nathan was saddened despite his detached face. "But I can see that you don't love me anymore." She hesitated at her words as she sadly realized the content. "So, I'll just go." Haley turned to leave and made her way to the doorway.

Nathan's eyes followed Haley to the door. "Haley, wait," Nathan yelled. He turned to her departing figure. Nathan couldn't bear to see her in agony in spite of the predicament she had caused. Haley instantly stopped in her tracks and turned around at Nathan's voice. "I do love you," Nathan sadly admitted. A single tear slid down Haley's round cheek at the sound of his confession and the significant meaning of those three little words. She remained in the doorway gazing at Nathan with anticipation. "But…" Nathan continued before he was disrupted by his wife.

"But, there are always buts." She shrugged and continued. "You can't trust me." Nathan nodded his head sadly.

"Haley, I just can't. I wish you could understand," he said as he took steps towards her and sat on the bed. "We were over the second you stepped onto that tour bus and drove out of my life, Hales."

"But I'm not going to leave you. I would never do that to you again," Haley desperately pleaded.

"Yeah, well where you go and who you are with is no longer my concern. You've made sure of that," he accused. "Besides, I'm leaving tomorrow anyhow."

Haley's ears perked. "Where are you going?" she asked while raising her eyebrows.

"I'm going to California for the High Flyers," Nathan shrugged as if the new wasn't noteworthy. Haley's face fell, and a silence filled the room. After what seemed like an eternity, Haley finally spoke.

Oh, Nathan, that's great. You should go," she encouraged him with fake enthusiasm. Her response sounded a little too enthusiastic for Nathan's taste.

"Thanks for giving me permission," he sarcastically remarked.

"Well, I guess there is nothing left to say," Haley breathed.

"Guess not," he responded.

"Well, I should go because you need to get some sleep." Nathan noticed the pain in Haley's eyes at his last comment by a hair's breadth.

"I'm sorry, Haley. I didn't mean that," he apologized as he looked down at the floor. "This is just…"

"Hard?" she blurted. Nathan looked up at Haley and nodded.

"Yeah, well at lest we can agree on that," he smiled half-heartedly at her. Haley nodded in agreement and smiled sadly.

"So, I guess this is good night and goodbye then?" she asked. Nathan nodded. "Well then, have a great summer, Nathan." Haley took one last longing look at Nathan and exited the room.

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief and fell back onto his bed. He smiled as he heard the sound of Haley's fluffy slippers thumping against the hall's hardwood floor as her footsteps grew faint.

"Have a good summer, Haley," Nathan replied to the darkness

_Swish, _just another shot in the present day as Nathan was pulled away from his memories. Nathan looked at his watch on impulse. His flight was leaving in two hours, and he still needed to hake a shower. With his basketball in hand, Nathan picked up a light jog towards home, feeling the North Carolina sun beat down upon him from overhead. This was going to be a very long summer.

_Next: Brooke runs into guess who in California. _


	4. Chapter 4

The beach house was desolate. Channel surfing had become Brooke's last resort as she melted down the remote with her digits. Brooked sighed in utter annoyance. "You've got to be kidding. Three hundred channels and there is nothing on." Not even E! entertainment network could arouse Brooke's attention. Brooke smiled as she noticed the icon on the bottom of the television screen. "Ooh, the style network. Now that's more like it."

A special on the summer's latest trends piqued her interest. Those shoes are too die for, Brooke thought to herself. She stared at a pair of glossy alligator pumps that adorned the slender ankles of Jules Asner, the perky host of the featured fashion special; a little too perky for Brooke's taste. Brooke reached for the bowl of popcorn placed on the elegant antique table her mother bought in Mexico last year. She grabbed a handful and stuffed the cheese popcorn into her awaiting mouth.

"Bright bikinis are out this summer, girls," Miss Asner explained to the hardcore audience of fashionistas. "Instead, opt for floral bikinis, similar to this Calvin Klein stunner on our model, Rachel." Jules gestured to the bag of bones of a model posing for the cameras. Brooke shuddered as she watched the model. She looked emaciated as she observed the model's ribs were literally poking out of what little flesh the model had left. Brooke suddenly fought the urge to grab this girl a Snickers bar, more than a few, in fact. She thought that the camera was supposed to add ten pounds, not eliminate ten pounds. This girl was an exception. Speaking of skinny girls, Brooke dug her cell phone out her jean pocket and hit speed dial as she threw her Doc Martin clad feet up on the expensive coffee table. Three rings later a voice full of slumber reluctantly answered.

"Hello?"

"Well, hello there. Greetings from the land of California." Brooke squealed into the device.

"Brooke, is that you?"

"No, it's Ed McMahon. Congratulations, you just won 1,000,000 dollars. Do you prefer cash or check?" Brooke teased

"Huh?"

"Of course it's Brooke. Who else would it be?"

"No one. I just thought you were somebody else. Forget about it." Brooke heard a sigh of relief on the other end, even if she was in another state.

"Is there something going on that you're not telling me about?" she asked suspiciously.

"No, I just wasn't expecting to hear from you at…" she glanced at her teardrop-shaped alarm clock, "at 3:00 in the morning." Brooke noticed the emphasis on morning in her friend's statement and flinched.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Not really good with the whole time differential aspect of traveling. What are you doing up anyways?" she asked innocently. Her friend sighed in agitation.

"Well, the sound of my phone ringing of the hook kinda woke me upfor starters."

"Right, sorry." Brooke winced at her friend's irritated reaction.

"It's cool. So, how is California?" she asked.

Brooke smiled in amusement. "Glad you asked. California is totally awesome. It's become my favorite subject to talk about since talking about, well, me," she chuckled. Disregarding the late hour, her friend smiled and rolled onto her back. "I mean the weather's great for tanning, cute boys, and best of all, Rodeo Drive, baby. Oh, and did I mention that there are really cute boys here?"

"Once or twice." Her friend let a smile slip. "Have you been catching up with your parents?" Ugghh, the parents, Brooke reminded herself. She always approached her parents with a sour note.

"Let's just say, the rent are on another business trip with no daughter in tow." Brooke made a pout face.

It's true. Once again Brooke' parents had abandoned their one and only for another business trip, and left the 17-year-old to her own devices. It angered Brookes as she had flown all the way to California cross country, mind you, to spend some much needed quality time with her folks. Instead, she remained all alone in her family's three million dollar house located on the rocky beaches just feet away from the icy water of the Pacific Ocean that pounded the Los Angeles shore. Brooke attempted every argument in the book to convince her parents to stay. Her parents argued they would return sooner rather than later and would treat Brooke to a Melrose Avenue shopping spree; their usual method of handling their daughter and quite the insult to her. So far, it had been one lonely summer for Brooke, and she was just barely approaching her second week in the so called golden state.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. Can I do anything?" Brooke's ears perked.

"Yes, you can jump on a plane and get your ass out here to California," she hinted hopefully.

"Wish I could, but I've still got a cesspool of bands to sort through in order to play at TRIC next year. Any suggestions? Hey, I hear N'Sync is in town," she added sarcastically. Brooke pretend gasped.

"Are you serious? Wait a minute. That is so not funny, P. Sawyer," she paused, "besides, they broke up years ago. What about one of those minimalist, eccentric bands you likethat nobody listens to?" she smirked.

"Ha, ha." Brooke sensed an anguished undertone in Peyton's sardonic response.

"So, you gonna tell me what's going wrong with you, and don't lie to me missy, or I am going to be forced to use my magical powers to physically transport you here so I can kick your sulking ass."

"Brooke, I really don't want to talk about it right now." Peyton's voiced changed to a serious tone. "Can't we talk about it when I am more aware of my surroundings?" Brooke relented.

"Fine, but you're going to call me first thing tomorrow morning and spill all the details." Peyton nodded in reluctance.

"I promise, and by the way, it is already morning, remember?"

"Hello, jetlagged much." Brooke explained. "So, how is everyone?"

"Everyone is good as far as I know. I try not to socialize with everyone, you know me being such a people person and all."

"Oh, well that's good." Brooke replied sounding disappointed.  
"And if you are talking about a certain blue-eyed, blonde-haired boyfriend of ours, which I know you are, he's doing fine as well," she smirked. It was as if Peyton had read her mind.

"What makes you think I'm talking about Lucas?" she paused, "Wait a gosh darn second, how did you know I was talking about him?"

"C'mon B, I know you better than you know your credit card number by heart. And Lucas sort of told me he went into Romeo mode before you left."

"Really, oh, what did he say?" Brooke inquired attempting to sound impartial.

"Nothing really…except that he totally regretted it."

"What? I can't believe that jerk…if I had a dime for every time that boy…"

"Relax," Peyton interrupted Brooke's conniption fit. "I was just kidding."

"P. Sawyer, I cannot believe you."

"Sorry, but you can be so easy at times," she giggled. "Look, kidding aside, all he mentioned was that he wished he told you his feelings sooner; Mr. Punctuality, right? He seemed more embarrassed than anything else."

"Yeah, we all know Lucas and his ever sense of perfect timing. I mean, what right does he have anyway? Here I am trying to move on with my life, and out of nowhere Lucas tells me he wants to be with me?"

"Well, we already know how he feels about you, so how do you feel about him?"

The line was quiet as Brooke pondered Peyton's question.

"I don't know, Peyton. I know that he's the only guy who has ever treated me like a real person and not some Saturday night sleaze. Whenever I'm around him, all I want to do is kiss him, but we all know where that leads…" Brooke raised her eyebrows.

"Mono?" Peyton joked as Brooke rolled her eyes. "But seriously Brooke, there you have your answer."

"My answer is mono?"

"No, dumbass, you just told me that you do have feelings for Lucas."

"No, I wasn't finished because somebody rudely interrupted me. Now, can I finish?" Peyton obliged

"Be my guest."

"The thing about Lucas is I do care about him. I will always care about him He was my first love. That kind of love just never goes away. I just don't know if I can ever be with Lucas like thatagain, you know."

"Why not?"

"Well, given that he was in love with my best friend when he was dating me doesn't exactly give him a free get out of jail card." Peyton sighed at Brooke's comment.

"Brooke, Lucas and I are just friends. I would never betray you like that again. I don't think even Lucas would do that to you again. He's a different person now."

"I know. It's just that I don't want to go there again. What if I did give him another chance and he hurts me again? I don't think I can stand being hurt like that again."

Peyton nodded her head in understanding. "Well, you never know until you try. I think I learned that lesson better than anyone else this year with Jake," her voice saddened as she continued, "but there were no regrets. I loved and I lost, but even if I did lose him, no regrets."

"It is better to have loved than to have not loved at all," Brooke inadvertently said aloud.

"Exactly," Peyton agreed.

"Regardless of how I feel now, I'm glad I am not there in Tree Hill. I don't think I could face Lucas." Brooke breathed a sigh of relief.

"It doesn't have to be decided tonight or tomorrow. That's why you have 3 months to sort out your feelings that you may or may not have for him. It's not like he's going anywhere anytime soon."

"You're right. When did you become some wise?"

"Being your best friend gives me a slight advantage. I don't know. I guess I'm just an old soul."

"Thanks, Peyton."

"That's what I'm here for," she paused, "but do me a favor. Next time you have a crisis, please contact me at a civilized hour."

"Sorry…"

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some much needed sleep to catch up on. Good night, Brooke."

Brooke smiled. "Good night, grumpy." The line clicked, and all Brooke heard was the dial tone.

Sleep sounded good to Brooke as she clicked off the television set and left the greasy popcorn bowl on the table. The maid would take care of it; one of the advantages of hired help. Her parents lived in the life of luxury, and since she was visiting, she figured she would take advantage of that fact. Once she entered her bedroom, Brooke stripped off her top and bottoms and changed into her comfortable snowmen flannel pajamas. The fabric felt soft against her skin as she slipped under her queen sized comforter and inhaled her surroundings. Her bedroom smelled a mixture of lavender and of the sea as she let sleep overcome her; a sleep where she would dream of summer sales at Bloomingdales, parents who adored her, and a boyfriend who had never betrayed her.

"Yo, dog, over here."

"Nathan Scott, with a no look pass to Ernest Halloway, who goes up for the jam!"

Doyle and Josh, Los Angeles' own version of Tree Hill's Mouth and Junk, performed their spectator duties as they sat on the rusting bleachers and observed the pick up game at Leilly Park's basketball court; old school versus new school. Everyday after basketball camp concluded, Nathan along with an entourage of some of his young, High Flyer friends, played a loose game of basketball against some of the High Flyer veterans, and the vets always seemed to have the ability to kick their asses; talk about teaching them a lesson.

"Alright, let's take a 10 minute breather," Michael advised everyone between breaths.

Nathan smiled. "Yeah, everybody, Mike's a little tired right now. Quick, I think he needs a stretcher." Everybody laughed at Nathan's playful jest, including Mike. Michael a Los Angeles local and was a four year vet at High Flyers. This was supposed to be his final year of attendance. The instructors took an immediate liking to him, and he was often appointed any position he wanted during practice.

"You got that right man, but I could settle for some Gatorade," he replied. The group dispersed and everyone walked towards the bleachers. Nathan and Mike sat down on a near bench as Mike guzzled down the remains of his cherry-flavored Gatorade. Mike turned to Nathan.

"Admit it, Nate, you wanna be like Mike."

Nathan took a swig of water and looked up from his bottle. "Yeah, maybe like Mike, as in Michael Jordan, but never you."

"Oh, Tree Hill's got a sense of humor today, huh?" Mike chuckled as he shook his head at Nathan. Tree Hill had become Nathan's new nickname to his own dismay.

"Well, somebody has to keep up with you."

"Yeah, well somebody ought to. I had to take you under my wing sometime. I mean you're a great player and all, but somebody's got to teach the ropes."

"Is that right?"

"Sure. Take it from me, I'm the all-around first pick of the draft, and you follow behind in a distant second." He playfully punched Nathan's shoulder.

"You just keep on telling yourself that, Mike. Whatever makes you feel better."

"Alright, how about a game of blind to show you that I…" he pointed to himself, "am the man?" "Nathan looked him puzzled. "Don't tell me you aint heard of no blind, dog. Were you born last year?" Nathan still looked bewildered as Mike laughed. "Okay, remember when MJ was playing the Hawks and bet Mutumbo he could make a free throw with his eyes closed?"

"Yeah," Nathan nodded.

"Well, boy, that is what blind is. It's like horse with your eyes closed." Nathan rolled his eyes.

"There is no such thing as blind." Mike got up and dribbled the basketball.

"Of course there is. I made it up," he grinned. "Okay, Tree Hill, watch me make this three- pointer with my eyes closed and a smile on my face."

"Wait a second. How do I know your eyes will be closed?"

"You ask so many questions, G. This game is about trust. Now, watch and learn." Mike took his place on the court. Nathan grinned as Mike licked his finger and held it in the air. "A nice easterly breeze," Mike commented. With his eyes sealed shut, Mike thrust the ball into the air towards the basket, as the ball sailed over the hoop and bounced down the grassy knoll that the court stood on.

"Nice air ball," Nathan snickered.

"I was testing the wind."

"Yeah, right." Mike looked as if he was getting ready to retrieve the ball, but Nathan stopped him. "Don't worry about it. I'll go get it." Mike had no time to respond as Nathan was already trotting down the hill to fetch the basketball.

"Damn, that bastard is fast," Mike noted in amazement as he shook his head and walked over to the rest of the group.

What kind of a moron builds a basketball court on top of a hill, Nathan asked himself as he pursued the ball down hill, avoiding sharp rocks that jutted out of the stony formation. Obviously, it was someone who did not play basketball. As he reached what looked like a running trail that surrounded the grassy hills of Leilly Park, he discovered he could not find the basketball. He sighed as he wondered where the ball could've bounced. It couldn't have gone too far because the terrain surrounding the court was completely flat. If I were a ball, where would I be, he thought.

"Looking for this?" Nathan turned as the sound of a feathery voice alerted him. Standing not more than 20 feet away was a petite brunette holding the object he had so desperately sought. Nathan squinted as he struggled to see her, yet the sun offered no comfort from his lack of vision. He stepped forward to avoid the sun, and the female's features became more familiar and distinguished. She was decked out in a skintight, formfitting, black Adidas running suit. The suit complemented her small waist, toned shoulders, and tanned complexion. Her brunette locks were done up in a messy bun, and Nathan gasped at the familiar features of the woman standing before him and recognized whose features they belonged to.

"Brooke, is that you?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I have been super busy, what with the current holidays and all. Here is the chapter you have all been looking forward to, a little Brooke and Nathan interaction and it's a lot longer than my other chapters. I kinda felt bad about not updating in a while. Keep in mind, I still don't know who will end up together, but both Nathan and Lucas have a chance. Who knows? I'd like to thank all my loyal readers for me giving me a chance and sticking with me. I seriously appreciate it. I would not be able to continue this story if it weren't for any of you. So, as always, read and review. I hope you enjoy this saga into the world of Brooke, Lucas, (well he's not in this chapter), and Nathan. Enjoy. Oh, and happy holidays…_

Chapter 5

She felt the cold breeze caress her face as she stepped out of the oversize door of her parents' L.A. mansion and gazed up at the sky above. She observed there were no signs of cloud coverage, well, except for an unbefitting wispy cloud with three holes that reminded her an awful lot of the pretzels she snacked on at Hot and Twisted. Hot and Twisted was a favorite snack spot in the heart of her local Tree Hill Mall that many of her friends frequented. Suddenly, Brooke had a craving for Hot and Twisted pretzels.Forcing the image of pretzels out of her wandering brain, Brooke abruptly set the timer on her trusty Timex sports watch and took off in a slow jog. She had the pace of the turtle rather than the hare, but Brooke didn't mind. The turtle won the race, didn't he?

Her place was simple enough; jog in one direction for approximately 30 minutes and jog back in the same direction she initially came from in another 30 minutes. Brooke was not adept at navigation and found herself constantly getting lost, even in familiar territory such as her own hometown. Peyton used to joke that Brooke could get lost just crossing a street. Taking her own weakness into mind, Brooke devised a plan to prevent her from getting lost in the foreign streets of L.A. Today was the first test of that plan. How could she get lost if she just remained in one direction? The plan was fool proof. She had seen to that.

A few days before, Brooke's mother had dragged her to another salon against her own will. Her mother viewed the salon as a necessary step to prepare herself for a benefit that her shallow, societal friends decided to throw; it was a benefit to raise money for a cure for cancer. Oh, please, like they're ever going to find a cure for cancer, Brooke had thought to herself. There were so many types of cancer that it would be nearly impossible to contain all of them. Why spend millions of dollars on a cause that didn't seem as justified to Brooke say as saving the rainforest or feeding the starving children in third world countries? Why would someone try to secure the future without even considering the present first? In the back of her mind Brooke knew the actual reasoning to her mother and her friends' presence at the benefit. It wasn't about finding a cure for cancer. Her mother was too selfish to care about stuff like that. It was all show and tell. Attending the benefit was a ploy to convince the public that she cared. Her mother should've won an academy award for her convincing portrayal as the humanitarian wife of a millionaire because she was certainly far from it.

While her mother's immaculate face was being layered in thousands of pounds of foundation and her hair was excessively hair sprayed, Brooke rifled through the pile of books and magazines in the waiting room. Bored out of her skull, Brooke digested a tattered copy of "Running for Dummies" and discovered the lack of oxygen filled subject: running.

Running had never been a particular subject of interest to Brooke. In fact, she despised it. Why sweat when you don't have to? Her favorite forms of exercise either consisted of chewing gum, wrestling the buttons on the television remote control, or lastly, flexing her vocal chords by talking for countless hours on the phone about absolutely nothing in particular. Running was the last thing she ever thought about, except when it concerned the opposite sex. After reading an article in Cosmo regarding male turn-ons, Brooke started to believe that guys liked watching females in motion. Accordingly, Brooke made it a habit to run, well more like walk briskly, at least once a week in order to catch a hottie on her trail. She had been successful many times at her running endeavor to attract the male species, but had decided that sweat and effort just wasn't her idea of a good time. Plus, she had only attracted health nut types, your basic yoga head with granola for a brain. You know, they were the type to take their date to a vegetable bar for dinner. Where was the fun in that? Yep, she had been all about the thrill of the chase, whether she was the pursuer or pursued. Sadly, she had thrived on any man's attention. That is, until now.

After attempting to zip up her size two favorite pair of Levis, she discovered in horror that that feat was a bit more difficult than she anticipated. Summertime had allowed Brooke to pack on five whole pounds to her tiny frame, which was perceived as detrimental in her eyes. Say goodbye to cheetos, Brooke thought wretchedly to herself. So, Brooke found herself out of options and decided to take up running daily to burn those empty, blasted calories that somehow had found their way to her ass. No longer did she care for attention, especially considering her current status as a cow. I'm doing this for me, Brooke assured herself.

Clad in her formfitting Adidas suit and newly purchased Reebok running shoes, she ran along the California Coast. Brooke gasped between faint breaths as she felt her heart pound against her ribcage. She looked down at her watch in exasperation and groaned as she noticed only 15 minutes had passed. Disregarding the time, Brooke tore her eyes away from the sand beneath her feet, and sighed in relief as she noticed pavement in the distance. She felt the sand that had somehow sneaked its way into her running shows squish in between her toes. Soon, she found herself on the hard pavement of what looked like a running trail. A sign read "Welcome to Leilly Park". Desperate to catch her breathe, Brooke slowed down her pace drastically and grimaced at the feeling of the grains of sand in her shoes whichrubbed against her raw feet. She knew she should've gone to another store to buy a pair of Adidas. She had felt slightly disappointed when the Footlocker employee claimed they were all out of women's Adidas running shoes. Instead, she settled for a pair of affordable Reeboks, which clashed with her running suit. Now she was forced to mix and match her ensemble, which was wrong in her book. She had broken her cardinal rule. Her mother had always taught her to never mix brands. But, pain is beauty as they may say.

As she trudged along the track at a steady pace, nothing prepared her for what would happen next. Out of nowhere, a round object instantaneously blocked Brooke's path, and she found she had no time to react from its wrath as she found herselfface to face with the pavement. Fortunately, Brooke's hands hit the ground first, saving Brooke from eating cement and paying a lifetime supply of plastic surgery bills for her potentially damaged and cement-filled face. She recovered, albeit slowly, and took in her surroundings. A stinging pain shot through her hands and right knee and she observed the damage that was done to her. Her hands were on fire and covered in cuts. Trickles of blood began to gradually seep through her second layer of skin. Her first layer was now a distant memory. Brooke looked down at her throbbing knee and noticed the blood from her knee wound began to trickle down her leg. She winced in pain as she attempted to take a step with her right leg. Great, just great, she thought to herself. Now she was stuck in the middle of L.A. How in the hell was she going to get home if she could barely inch her way forward. Brooke looked around the track for evidence of the culprit and spied a basketball with the world Spalding imprinted on it to her left; the object to her near demise. Using her left leg as her balance, Brooke hobbled to the ball and retrieved the article that had fallen from the heavens. Who is Spalding, she wondered to herself. Is he the owner of this ball? Brooke then spotted an approaching figure running down the hill from above. From the distance she could tell he stood at least a foot taller than her, and his body soon came into view. His stature reminded Brooke of the jolly green giant in those vegetable commercials, except he was much better-looking than the green man. Ignoring her present state of pain, Brooke gawked at the man's muscular legs, guns for arms, and a set of familiar pretty blues. They were the same blues as Lucas'. As he advanced to the track, his whole face came into view, and she recognized him as he stared at her holding the ball in her tiny hands.

"Looking for this?" Brooke gestured to the ball.

"Brooke, is that you?"

"Well, well, if it isn't Nathan Scott, AKA Tutorboy." Brooke smiled in delight and playfully bounced the ball to an unsuspecting Nathan, who caught it in surprise.

"Brooke, what are you doing here in LA?"

"My parents live here, and I'm just here for the summer," she stated matter-of- factly. "I thought you would've heard."

"Yeah, I heard you were staying in California, but I didn't expect to see you in LA."

"Well, it's a small world after all, isn't it?" she smirked.

"I guess so." Nathan smiled.

"Well, are you just gonna stand three or are you ever gonna give me a hug?" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot mocking him with her annoyed tone. Nathan laughed as he embraced Brooke in a friendly hug. Nathan immediately felt her moist forehead against his rough, chin, which was covered in stubble. Brooke pulled away as they parted.

"Geez, Tutorboy, ever heard of shaving?" she joked as she rubbed her face with her skinned hand, forgetting altogether that it was doused in her DNA. Nathan instantly took notice of Brooke's hands and knees and stepped back

"Brooke, what the hell happened to you?"

"Well, I was taking a leisurely romp through the park when all of a sudden this gigantic, orange ball comes flying out of nowhere, knocking me to the ground in the process. Hence, skinned hands," she pointed to her bleeding knee, "and skinned knee," she paused, "You wouldn't have anything to do with fiasco would you?" she eyed him suspiciously. Nathan frowned as he realized what happened.

"Oh, dude, Brooke, I am so sorry. Some friends and I were playing a pickup game, and one of my dumbass friend, I repeat dumbass," Brooke smirked at Nathan's emphasis on "dumbass". Nathan continued, "decided to shoot the basketball with his eyes close. Hence, air ball and you eating dirt…err pavement," he explained.

"So, what is this, bowling for Brooke day?" Brooke raised her voice slightly in irritation, and Nathan flinched at Brooke's remark.

"No, Brooke, I feel so bad. I mean, are you okay?" His voice was full of genuine concern, and Brooke's features softened at his response.

"Relax, Tutorboy, I know it wasn't your fault." She looked up at him sheepishly. "I was kidding, just to clarify," she assured him. Nathan sighed in relief and nodded his head.

"Right, I knew that."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," she added sarcastically.

"Listen, my game is pretty much over now. Can I give you a ride home? It's the least I could do for you," he offered.

"Well, seeing as that I can barely walk at this point without every bone and muscle in my body aching, yeah. That would be very much appreciated."

"Yeah, you look like you took a pretty bad spill there." Nathan looked down at her knee and noticed the blood-soaked socks. The blood looked coagulated around her kneecap, but had stopped dribbling down her shapely leg. He nervously looked back up at Brooke as he felt her eyes on him, probably questioning why he had stared at her leg for such an extended amount of time. He knew exactly the reasoning to his staring at her legs. He was concerned about her cut. Yet, while he inspected the damage done, he couldn't help but admire the way her calves curved to meet her knees to lead up to her slim thighs; or the way the material of her running suit clung to every curve of her body. But that wasn't why he was looking at her legs, he convinced himself. He looked away from Brooke guiltily, but her response forced him to face her again.

"Actually, I was referring to my unsuccessful attempt at jogging; seeing as that I already can feel muscles that I never knew I had." A few seconds of silence ensued as Nathan looked awkwardly at Brooke, who turned to look up the hill. "By the way, that hill aint looking' too good right now, buddy," she pointed to the hill that Nathan had just climbed down.

"It's pretty steep. Here, I can carry you." Nathan moved toward Brooke as if getting ready to pick her up. Brooke shielded herself with her arms in defense of Nathan's advance towards her.

"Oh no, you're not, mister. You are not carrying me up that damn hill like I'm some pathetic paraplegic or some damsel in distress," she vehemently refused.

"Well, it's either I carry you up and we can get out of here quicker, or you can spend the rest of the day limping up that hill," he paused at and looked at the defiant Brooke, who had suddenly reverted to her inner 9-year-old. "It's your choice." Brooke rolled her eyes and sighed in aggravation.

"Fine, but I'm warning you," she pointed her index finger in Nathan's face, "Do you want to know why I was out running?"

"I don't know, maybe the physical aspect of it, why?" Nathan shrugged. He had reached the point of his patience meter.

"I have gained five whole pounds since I have been in California," Brooke's voice grew quiet as she bowed her head in shame. Nathan chuckled when Brooke looked at him again.

"Not 5 whole pounds," Nathan pretend gasped. Brooke shot him an irritated look.

"I'm just saying, if your back goes out, don't blame me."

"Brooke, my back won't go out. I promise you." Brooke hesitated.

"Well, okay. Let's just get out of here before anyone else sees me looking like this." Nathan nodded in agreement, and in a swift movement, scooped Brooke into his arms. She allowed her free hand to dangle as she clutched Nathan's broad shoulders for support and secretly peered out of the corner of her right eye to read Nathan's looming face. His expression was one of ease as he carried her up the incline displaying no strain from her weight whatsoever. It was as if she were as light as a feather; okay, maybe not a feather. Perhaps, she would settle for the weight of a small animal of some kind. Brooke smiled in approval. She noticed her petite frame fit perfectly in the crook of Nathan's arms, and she resisted the urge to snuggle up to his taut chest.

"Whoa, dog. What the hell took you so long? I thought that you had fallen and couldn't get back up." Brooke averted her gaze from Nathan's sculpted jaw line as the sound of a voice interrupted her thoughts. Lo and behold, Brooke beheld a dozen or so men dressed in jerseys and gathered in a group in the center of the basketball court looking at her. Nathan continued walking with Brooke nestled in his capable arms. Every man's jaw dropped as they looked at the spectacle before them,Nathan Scoot holding a beautiful, brunette stranger. Brooke's cheeks turned to crimsons of humiliation as she looked up at Nathan in desperation.

"Nathan, you can put me down now," she whispered. Ignoring her protest, Nathan walked several more feet until he carefully placed Brooke on the bleachers.

"What the hell is this, Tree Hill? You go and fetch a ball that I overthrew and then come back without the ball and this fine-ass woman?" Nathan turned around to face a clearly love-stricken Mike, whose eyes never left the brunette beauty. Brooke looked down mortified. Nathan smiled at his friend. The other men remained on the court drooling over Nathan's mysterious female companion.

"Mike, this is my good friend, Brooke. Brooke this is my buddy, Mike."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Brooke. I apologize for my gawking, but you have got to be the prettiest little thing that I ever saw." Brooke blushed as she met his eyes.

"Mike, it's nice to meet you as well. I'd shake your hand, but can't on account of an injury caused by a flying ball. I tell you, that was one unlucky shot." Mike's eyes widened in realization as he noticed Brooke's skinned hands and knee and that he had somehow contributed to her downfall.

"Darlin', I am so sorry. Are you okay?" Nathan watched the exchange between the duo in amusement.

"Yeah, but it's nothing a couple band aids and some extensive plastic surgery couldn't fix. I hope you have insurance."

"What?" he asked in surprise as he looked at Nathan who just shrugged his shoulders in mock confusion. Mike looked back at Brooke for an answer, who appeared to be all business.

"So, is this how you pick up chicks, death by air ball?" she asked in a serious tone. Mike sighed and wiped his brow.

"You have got to be kidding me." Mike was on the verge of tears. "Brooke, I really am sorry. If there is anything I can do for you…" he pleaded.

"Yeah, well so am I," she stated.

"What you sorry for? This aint your fault," he looked at Brooke.

"Actually, it is." She looked up at Nathan and grinned. "Gosh, you guys are so damn easy." Nathan returned her smile, and Mike looked up at the both in with confusion plastered all over his round face. "Mike, I'm fine. I was just kidding. I'm not gonna sue you. No worries." She watched as relief washed over his face, and his mouth slowly transformed into a delightfully crooked smile. He laughed until his shoulders shook.

"Oh, girl, you are so good. You really had me going there."

"Joking aside, it's really nice to meet you." Mike winked and smiled. Brooke looked over at Nathan. "So, are we going to get the show on the road or what? I can hear hydrogen peroxide calling my name at this moment. If I don't treat these gashes soon, the authorities are going consider me a lost cause and quarantine me." Nathan nodded.

"Yeah, can you wait hold a minute? I gotta talk to Mike before I leave. You mind?" Brooke relented, and Nathan took Mike aside, outside of Brooke's range of hearing.

"Listen man, I gotta get Brooke home, you mind telling the guys?" Nathan nodded in the direction of his buddies on the court still slobbering over Brooke. Mike shook his head.

"No, it's cool, dog." Mike looked in Brooke's direction. "You've got quite the little hottie on your hands." He nudged Nathan in the stomach.

"Dude, she's just a good friend from high school."

"Oh, I see a "good" friend from Tree Hill, huh. Bet they all look like that down in the Carolinas. So, how "good" of a friend is she, huh?" Nathan rolled his eyes.

"Would you stop it, man? She's just a friend. That's all."

"Sure thing. If I were you, I would tap that fine ass of her's," he paused, "hey, you don't think she'd go for me do you?" Mikes face lit up at the prospect of a chance with someone likeBrooke. Nathan laughed.

"No." Mike stopped smiling at Nathan's comment.

"What do you mean "no"?" he shrieked.

"You're not her type." Mike thought about Nathan's response and nodded his head.

"Well, what kind of type is she looking for?"

"I don't know, definitely not you though." Nathan looked over at Brooke who was staring up pensively at the sky. The breeze blew brunette locks in her face as she absentmindedly tucked the loose strands of her bun behind her ears. Her skin glowed as the sun bounced off her in rays. He had never seen her look more beautiful than at that moment, despite scarred knee and all.

"What else do you know about her?" Mike interrupted Nathan's daydream, and he reluctantly turned his attention back to his meddlesome friend.

"I am not talking to you about this, okay. Besides I have to go."

"Fine, but don't think I'm not getting no answers out of you tomorrow, fool."

"Whatever, I'll see you tomorrow morning at practice." Nathan turned and walked towards the bleachers.

"Yeah, don't you forget about that." Mike looked at Brooke. "Honey, I will be seeing you soon." Brooke smiled and waved at Mike. She watched him walk back to the basketball court where she was convinced that he would be grilled by all his buddies about her. She liked him. Nathan approached an awaiting Brooke as she looked at his tired face.

"You ready to go?" Brooke nodded. Nathan drew Brooke into his arms with effortless charm. She giggled as Nathan adjusted Brooke's weight in one arm and threw his gym bag strap over his head and pulled her back into both arms. He started walking towards his car.

"So, how do you get around in LA; a jag, a corvette, a…" Brooke lost her words as she stared at a rusting sedan with a cracked windshield parked 20 feet in front of her and Nathan, "an 18th century Honda sedan?" she added with disgust. Nathan sighed in annoyance.

"Hey, it was the only thing I could afford." Brooke smiled at Nathan's defense tactic.

"Alright Tutorboy," she threw her arm up in the air, a signal to proceed forward, "to the crapmobile."

Before long both persons had made it safely into the vehicle. Nathan glared at Brooke as she made herself comfortable in the passenger seat. She crossed her injured leg over her functional one and nodded in satisfaction as she looked over at Nathan, who started the car and drove.

"So, where to?"

"I don't know. I was running in one general direction, but I know it was 30 minutes on foot from that park." Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Number 1300, Carola Avenue, you happy?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good."

"So, uh," Nathan cleared his throat, "you never asked me what I'm doing in LA."

"Basketball camp, right," Brooke looked out car the window and back at him.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Well, all those guys wearing basketball jerseys kinda gave it away," she stated sarcastically. Nathan chuckled.

"Good point."

"Oh, and Peyton told me."

"Oh."

"Didn't figure I would run in to you, this being LA and all." Ten minutes passed, and both occupants of the vehicle remained silent on the awkward ride home.

"It's this one." Brooke pointed to the gigantic house on the right, with its three stories beautiful European architecture. Nathan pulled into the driveway of Brooke's gigantic mansion of a house and shut off the engine.

"I think your engine fell out about half a mile back," Brooke broke the silence. Nathan laughed as he unbuckled his seat belt, but Brooke's hand stopped him before he could reach for the door handle. Nathan looked back Brooke.

"Nathan, I think I can handle it from here."

"Are you sure, I don't mind…"

"As much as I love being manhandled, I think a few hops ought to do the trick. Besides, I don't think my parents would be too fond of a strange man carrying their daughter to the front door," she lied. Her parents weren't even home. She just didn't want to feel like a princess in need of rescuing. She could handle herself. Nathan nodded his head

"I understand, so…."

"So, you still got your cell don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I will give you a call sometime this week and we can hang out. I mean if your schedule permits it. Maybe you could help me alleviate some of this boredom I have been having since I came here," she suggested.

"Yeah, that would be cool." Nathan smiled

"Okay, well thanks for the ride, and I will call you soon." Brooke smiled at gratefully and opened the passenger door. Using her left leg, she managed to slide out of the seat onto the paved cement. She slammed the door shut then thought of something as she stuck her head in through the passenger window. Nathan looked up from his seat belt in surprise. "Oh, and a little advice as to the interior of this vehicle: air freshener." They both laughed as Brooke began limping to the house. She looked absolutely ridiculous, and he had to laugh to himself. Nathan watched her as she finally entered her doorway. She looked back and waved as Nathan drove off.

Once inside her safehaven, Brooke fell onto to the couch in pure exhaustion, as she thought about her day and running into Nathan. She smiled as she remembered him generously carrying her, and then she thought of Mike and how funny he had been. All in all, it was a great day despite her run-in with Mr. Spalding. She couldn't wait until the next time she could hang out with Nathan. She couldn't exactly explain her sudden longing to be around him, but decided to just ignore her thoughts. Brooke flexed her left leg and flinched in pain as a reminder of her day. Oh, she was so not looking forward to her shower and everything that would come after. The pain, the pain; This was going to be one painful shower.


	6. Chapter 6

_Okay, here's my sixth installment of Summer Time. I apologize in the delay of getting this chapter up. I am extremely picky when it comes to my writing, and the length of my chapters are usually more than a couple chapters combined. Anyways, this chapter is very Lucas and Haley oriented with some Nathan. Just remember that everyone is apart of this story, regardless if it's gonna be mainly centered around Lucas, Brooke, and Nathan. I worked hard on this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it. I promise next chapter will be all Nathan and Brooke. I swear on my life. In the meantime, sit back and enjoy. Lastly, I would like to thank all my reviewers. You have no idea how much a review means to mean, and I wouldn't go forward with this story without your guys' input. Anyways, as always, read and review and I will try to whip another chapter out soon. Thanks guys. You all are really lovely ._

"Here you go, sir. I've got some pancakes, eggs sunny side up, some bacon, and a side of toast." She smiled at the older gentleman sitting in the corner of Karen's Café as she struggled to balance three plates. The man smiled at her with his kind eyes as she stared down at the breakfast fit for three. The man heartily stared at the stack of pancakes on the table. Haley smiled to herself.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" The elder man reluctantly looked up from his steaming meal at Haley as though deep in thought. She could see the man's forehead creases as he pondered.

"No, thank you." The man reached out and grabbed Haley's hand as she slid a napkin onto the table. Startled, she looked up at him and then back at her hand covered beneath his in bewilderment. His shaking hand squeezed her hand tenderly. He let go as Haley looked back at him. The man smiled, revealing two rows of impeccably white and even teeth, instantly reminding Haley of those old Colgate commercials she used to watch emphatically as a little girl. Haley smiled back at him and nodded as she turned around and made her way towards the bar to see if any more orders had been placed. She noted that there were no more slips of paper hanging from the overhead and the fact that there were only four people in the café, Lucas, a young couple, and of course, the old man.

Since Karen left for cooking school in Italy during the whole summer, Deb had offered to run the café for her. Given that Deb had few other workers on the staff, she immediately hired a jobless Haley, and Lucas helped out as well. Initially, Haley had been reluctant to work for Deb, but she came to discover she had no other choice. Despite applying for jobs elsewhere throughout Tree Hill, she never received any feedback. So, Karen's Café it was. Not only had Haley desperately needed the money, but she also needed a place to stay. As fate would have it, she was best friends with the owner of the café's son, Lucas. Her buddy had offered her a place to stay until she got on her own two feet. Haley looked over at one of the tables near the café's entrance and spotted Lucas scribbling furiously away on a piece of paper. She looked back at the old man and laughed to herself as she noticed nearly half his breakfast had been consumed. That is one famished appetite, she thought to herself. Okay, break time; not that there was anything to take a break from. Haley glimpsed over at her friendagain and smiled. Curiously, she approached Lucas' hovering backside and peepef over hisbroad shoulders to determine his piece of such frustration. She cleared her throat and read her findings allowed.

"Dear Brooke, It's only been a few weeks since you left, and…." Lucas nearly jumped out of his seat as the sound of Haley's voice rang in his ear. He looked up at his friend from his position in his seat in sheer annoyance. Haley raised her eyebrows and grinned back at him.

"Hello, this is kind of private." Lucas crumpled the letter up inannouyance as Haley sat down in the vacant seat across from him,

"So private that you're writing it in such a public place?" she teased. Lucas looked as if he were tempted to say something, but paused. Finally, he spoke, but not to the extent Haley was hoping for.

"Good point," he muttered.

"Lucas Eugene Scott, I can't believe you are pining over someone when you could be doing something so much worthwhile, like working, for example," Haley replied. Lucas' ears perked at the sound of her reciting his full name and cowered in his chair. Only his mother was allowed to call him by his full name when she was irate, but Haley usually included his middle name just to provoke him. What kind of a middle name was Eugene anyways, he pondered. It was a name Lucas generally associated with geeks. Lucas suddenly pictured himself wearing a pair of large-framed wire glasses and a pocket protector tucked tightly beneath his shirt pocket. It was your classic Revenge of the Nerds movie scene. What was his mother thinking when she named him? It was lucky for her no one at school knew his middle name. On the other hand, his first few years at Tree Hill High, Lucas had successfully cemented himself as a nerd on his very own, regardless of his middle name. Although, he did like to think of himself as more of an outsider. After the insistence of Coach Whitey, Lucas joined Tree Hill High's varsity team, and Lucas quickly became popular through his reputation as a Raven. His popular status astounded even him when he started dating Brooke Davis, the most popular female at Tree Hill High and he could imagine high school history. It's funny how one becomes popular just by association, he thought to himself. Typically, Lucas would gratify Haley's jest with provocation, but today he would attempt to ignore it by throwing humor back in her face.

"Well, I figured you handle it. Deb should be back soon if you're at all worried about the line that is…" Lucas looked behind Haley's figure, "suddenly forming outside the door." Haley jerked her head around in alertness and realized Lucas was teasing her.

"Lucas!" Haley swatted her friend playfully and chuckled. He laughed and looked at her.

"Just give me a heads up if you need any help," he finished. Haley looked down at the crumpled stationary in his hand and switched her gaze to Lucas' face. Lucas was staring absentmindedly out the window at the sleepy, little town. She noticed a certain sadness in Lucas' blue eyes as she continued to search his face for an answer. Realizing Haley's intense stare was directed towards himself, Lucas uneasily shifted his attention back to her.

"What?" he exclaimed as he wrinkled his forehead. Haley shrugged her shoulders.

"Nothing, it's just…" Haley stammered as if she had no ability to form coherent words. She knew what she wanted to say, yet somehow knew addressing the issue would put a damper on Lucas' day, let alone the summer. The sensitive subject was really quite the sore spot for her friend. On the other hand, I might as well till him, Haley told herself. Lucas was evidently in a down spiral. How could one further piece of information plague his already negative thoughts? Yeah, I need to tell him, she reassured herself.

"Look, Lucas, I'm worried about you." She paused as she tried to think of her words. Lucas looked at her with a confused expression. "Okay, here's what I want to say." She smacked the table and continued, "And you can't get mad or yell at me for bringing this up," she warned.

"Haley, what is it?" he sighed.

"I know that you care for Brooke…and you miss her. But you need to stop pining over her, Lucas. It's not going to get you anywhere." Haley looked at Lucas defensively as she awaited his reaction. Lucas sighed again and stared at her indignantly. The unfinished letter lay crumpled in his fist and shrunk to a greater degree as his fist curled in tension.

"I am not pining over Brooke," he insisted and diverted his eyes from Haley's scrupulous stare, suddenly finding the granite table top incredibly fascinating to gape at. Haley laughed at herself when she observed Lucas' temper tantrum. His infantile behavior was reminiscent of a fit induced child whimpering over being force-fed split pea soup rather than a tasty spoonful of sweet apple sauce. However, given her friend's emotional state, Haley decided to broach the subject cautiously to avoid ongoing fits, and her voice immediately softened.

"Seriously, Luke, you should be out shooting hoops at the river court with Skills and the gang or doing something productive with you time, instead of wasting valuable stationary over some girl who might not even come back for the school year." Lucas immediately looked up from his view of the table and into Haley's concerned eyes with accusation. Oops, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned the possibility of Brooke not returning, Haley reminded herself.

"She's coming back, alright. She wouldn't just leave without telling me. She's not like you." Lucas cold, blue eyes glazed with ice as he stared intently at her. Haley flinched atthe harsh words directed towards her. Her vision of Lucas blurred due the onslaught of tears that threatened to spill down her olive complexion.

"I deserve that." Haley managed to sputter as she fought the urge to cry, albeit unsuccessfully. Soon, she felt the sting of hot tears as her overwhelmed tear ducts succumbed to the pressure. Lucas' face softened at the sight of Haley's tearstained face.

"I didn't mean that, Hales." Lucas apologized and placed his chapped hand over her smooth one, which sat helplessly upon the cold surface of the table. Haley looked up at Lucas' assuring gaze and looked back down at the tile-covered floor. Instinctively, Lucas grabbed a napkin with flowers imprinted on it and gingerly wiped Haley's tear streaked cheeks as she quickly looked up at Lucas in surprise. She gently grabbed the napkin that Lucas had brushed her face with and took his unoccupied hand in her own. A welcoming smile sat upon her pursed lips.

"Lucas, you shouldn't be apologizing because what you said about me leaving is true. I did leave without telling you, Nathan, and pretty much everyone." She crinkled her forehead in thought. "Come to think of it, the only I did tell was Taylor," she realized this and sniffled. Lucas' formerly cold stare had emerged into an amused expression. Taylor James. She was Haley's older, wilder sister, and pretty much a disgrace to the James clan. You kinda had to figure that one of Mr. and Mrs. James' daughters would come out all wrong when there were five of them all together. Most likely that person had to be Taylor.

"Wait a minute, you told your sister, who is crazy by the way, before you even told me?"

"Hey, don't flatter her. She was just there and convenient to talk to. Truth is, I probably would have told anyone who was there. Taylor was just the luck of the draw, I guess."

"But Taylor?" Lucas gasped.

""Yeah, I know; pretty pathetic, huh? Although, it's pretty much inevitable to avoid Taylor's prying. She gets that from my dad." Haley looked at her friend with a serious expression on her face. "But Lucas, I want you to know how terrible I feel about not telling you about my abrupt exit. I would take it back if I could." She looked at Lucas with regret filled eyes. "Actually, I would do so many things differently if I could." Lucas nodded in agreement. Haley patted his hand and released it from his grasp.

"I know what you mean," he added. Haley's eyes shifted around the café looking nowhere in particular, and she pondered what if. She looked back at Lucas, who seemed to be sharing a similar state of mind.

"Lucas, do you have any regrets?" Lucas looked at her and stated the obvious.

"Of course, Hales. We all have our regrets." He looked lost in thought for a moment and then spoke. "Why, what's yours?" he implored. He had asked a question he already knew the answer to, but was eager to hear Haley's response, just as he was certain that she was eager to tell him.

"I have a lot of regrets. You know, for most people it's difficult to narrow down a lot of regrets because they all hold the same repercussions. But for me, it's incredibly easy. For me, leaving Nathan is my biggest regret." Lucas listened, and Haley continued. "I mean, I wish Icould go back to that moment when I was sitting in our bedroom thinking my thoughts and seeking answers to all the questions that I had but couldn't answer. Did Nathan love me anymore? Did Nathan ever love me? Would he forgive me for kissing Chris? If I could go back to that time, I would convince myself to face the consequences of my actions. If I had never been so selfish, then Nathan and I would still be together." Haley looked on the verge of tears. "But instead, I ran away because I was scared of facing Nathan, and because I was curious as to what was behind that door. And I discovered something, Lucas."

"And what is that?" he asked.

"I discovered that all the fame and money wasn't worth it; losing the love of my life wasn't worth it. I didn't run away from Nathan. I ran away from myself. And before I knew it, I came back here expecting Nathan to welcome me with open arms, like some kind of fairy tale. It may have begun like a fairy tale, but it certainly didn't end like one. I came back to a different person who just seemed so cold and distant, and rightfully so. And I lost him. Lucas, I've lost him forever." Haley's eyes succumbed to tears again and she found herself in Lucas's consoling arms. Lucas patted her ruffled hair as she choked on her own sobs. A few moments passed as Haley's cries subsided and her grip around Lucas' shoulders lessened as sheinhaled deeplyand reluctantly parted from Lucas' grasp. Her tearstained face was covered in streaks of her foundation, and puddles of mascara surrounded her brown eyes, giving her the appearance of a raccoon.

"I'm sorry," she apologized in embarrassment. Lucas handed her a wad of napkins, which she hurriedly pressed to her smeared face.

"What do you have to be sorry for, Hales? It's perfectly natural to cry." Haley stopped wiping her face with the napkins and grinned to Lucas' shock.

"Actually, I'm apologizing for that." She pointed to Lucas' short-sleeved, gray t-shirt, and he looked down at the direction of her gesture. His shirt was covered with streaks of Haley's tan-tinted makeup and tracks of black, ivory mascara. Lucas half-smiled and cocked his head in Haley's direction. Hoping to avoid further tears from Haley's overwhelmed eyes, Lucas smiled at the mess she left on his cotton shirt. "I'm so sorry, Lucas. I'll buy you a new shirt, because trust me, that makeup will not wash out." Haley raised her hand as if she were in a classroom yearning for her teacher's attention. It was a familiar sight due to the fact that her hand was always the first raised in class; that is, she knew all the answers. "This is from experience." Lucas shrugged.

"It's not a big deal. I think these things are like three bucks at Target anyways." Lucas brushed it off as Haley sighed in relief. "Besides my mom did say that I needed a little color in my wardrobe," he joked. Haley laughed and Lucas interjected. "What is this stuff anyhow?" He examined his stained shirt in curiosity. "You said you can't even wash this out. Is this stuff toxic?" Lucas raised one eyebrow in wonder.

"Well, it does wash out eventually," she answered.

"Eventually?" Lucas looked at Haley.

"Yeah, but by the tenth time I run my clothes through the washer, they have already shrunk by then. Unfortunately, I have to throw them away. You wouldn't believe how much money I've wasted on clothes," she paused, "ormakeup for that matter."

"And you actually put this crap on your face?"

"Yeah, I know. But pain is beauty, right?"

"God, you are beginning to sound like Brooke's clone," Lucas added. Haley awkwardly returned her attention back to her face by rubbing a napkin against it at the mere subject of Brooke. Lucas frowned in thought and finally spoke. "Speaking of regrets, I have one," he offered. Haley looked at Lucas with sudden interest.

"Oh, yeah, what's that?"

"My biggest regret was the whole incident last year with Brooke and Peyton. I had the girl of my dreams and lost her because I cheated on her with her best friend, of all people." Lucas rolled his eyes. "I still have difficulty in ascertaining why I did that. Last year seems like such a blur because I try to block it out all the time. All I can remember is that it all started with my unhealthy obsession over Peyton."

"Yeah, I remember you used to talk about Peyton all the time." Lucas nodded at Haley's remark.

"For years she did not even know I existed. I felt like Ducky."

"Ducky?" Haley asked.

"Yeah, you know the nerd who was obsessed with Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink?" Haley thought about it for a moment and a light of recognition went through her eyes.

"Oh, yeah, I love that movie."

"Then all of a sudden Peyton started talking o me, you know, after years of silence, she finally reached out to me. I became even more fanatical. Then along came Brooke when I least expected, and she caught me completely off guard. She was so unlike anyone I had ever met before: spontaneous, caring, and amazing. She challenged me in ways I never knew existed." Lucas' eyes twinkled as he spoke of Brooke. "Here I was stuck in the middle of two incredible girls. Each was special in her ways, and I did the unthinkable. I took advantage of the both of them, and in the end, I hurt two people I really cared about." Haley smiled sadly.

"You made a mistake, Lucas. These things happen." She pointed to herself. "Talk about mistakes. I have mastered the art of making mistakes. In fact, look up the word mistake in Webster's dictionary, and you will find a picture of me next to it. That's guaranteed."

"Look up the word dumb ass, and you'll find a picture of me next to it," joked Lucas. Haley giggled.

"Actually, you really wouldn't. Dumb ass is two words and cannot be located in any dictionary in the world."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I have tried to look it up myself, but no luck whatsoever." She sighed, clearly disappointed. Lucas smiled. Good old Haley. "You know, you and I have a lot more in common than just being best friends," she added.

"What, the fact that we're both," Lucas air quoted, "dumb asses?" She laughed at his referral to the two words that they had discussed moments earlier.

"Well, that and we both don't realize what we got 'til it's gone."

"Isn't that a song by Air Supply?" he asked sarcastically. Haley smacked Lucas' leg lightheartedly and scowled at him. "No," she air quoted, "dumb ass. You know what I'm talking about; me and Nathan, you and Brooke." Lucas' face grew serious.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. If only I then felt the way I feel about Brooke now. Things would be so different. But I never gave myself a chance to because I was infatuated with Peyton. At that particular point in my life, I really thought I was in love with her. Now I know I was wrong because the way I feel about Brooke is completely different than the way I feel about Peyton. Peyton and I have been friends for a long time, and it's been established I no longer have any romantic intentions towards her and vice versa. As for Brooke, I can't explain it. I love that girl. It's the first time I have ever felt like this about anyone before. I just feel it, regardless if she's physically near me or away from, me, which explains this crummy letter." On cue, Lucas picked up the crumpled piece of paper off the ground and set it on the table. Haley watched him with interest, and a thought crossed her mind.

"Well, at least you've you a shot with her when she comes back. It's not like you guys are married. There are no legal documents keeping you two apart." She rolled her eyes at the thought of Nathan's petition for annulment, which she had hesitantly signed. That was how she knew the marriage was over between her and Nathan. It was like the marriage had never occurred. That's what an annulment was, like an edit in her life. She and Nathan had made a mistake, andso this gigantic eraser removed their past and set them both on the correct path. It wasn't like a divorce at all. At least with a divorce, her past would remain intact, but an annulment was so very different. She had no choice but to sign the papers. It was either not sign them and have Nathan despise her rest of her natural born life, or sign them and have a _grateful_ Nathan despise her the rest of her natural born life. Well, at least he would be grateful, Haley thought sadly to herself. By the time Nathan would return to Tree Hill for the new school year, all remnants of his history with Haley would be erased; Naley no longer. The only time they would see each other would be in the school halls as each would glance awkwardly at one another as if they were strangers. Both would immediately bolt to class at the sound of the school bell ringing, careful to avoid any kind of eye contact. This would become routine, and the estranged couple would no longer acknowledge one another. Their only ties to each other would be the close circle of friends they had managed to acquire as a couple, but Haley had no doubt that that would change on account of their final separation. Lucas glanced at Haley and noticed no sign of these negative thoughts for he was so focused on is own predicament.

"When she comes back; that's if she comes back," Lucas pouted. Haley saw the disappointment upon his face and wanted to comfort him, yet didn't know how to.

"Lucas, I didn't mean what I said earlier. I am sure she will come back." Lucas looked at her with doubt.

"Why would she want to come back to this place?" Lucas threw his arm up and gestured toward the window, which displayed the picturesque setting of the desolate streets of his hometown. "Why come back to Tree Hill, when she can stay in the city of angels?" Lucas asked, referring to Los Angeles. A thought suddenly occurred to Haley as she listened to Lucas's cry fest.

"Wait a minute. Did Broke leave some of her clothes at your house?" Lucas' face brightened.

"As a matter of fact, she did." Haley nodded with satisfaction at this announcement.

"Well, then if clothes don't convince Brooke to come home, I don't know what else would. Maybe a certain fair-haired boy who is fond of her, perhaps," she suggested. Lucas laughed.

"Thanks, Hales. I can always count on you to cheer me up."

"No problem, best friend." Haley looked over at the counter and sighed as she realized that work had to be done. "I've got to get back to work." She glanced behind her at the nonexistent line waiting at the door. "A customer could walk through that door any second now." Lucas nodded before Haley continued. "But before I leave, you have to promise me one thing."

"Sure, anything."

"I'll stop pining over Nathan if you stop pining over Brooke."

"For the last time, I am not pining over Brooke," Lucas exclaimed from his seat. Haley stood and swiftly snatched the crumpled letter from the table. Taken aback, Lucas jumped out of his chair and started to pursue his thief.

"Oh, really?" Haley yelled as she scurried behind the counter with the letter clutched in her hand, giggling in delight.

"Hey, give that back!" Lucas chased Halley all the way to his mother's storeroom, located in the back of the café. Haley squealed as Lucas pursued her from behind and sought the supply closet as her only escape and hastily locked the door behind her. "Haley!" Lucas banged on the door in frustration and threw his hands up in the air in surrender. He heaved a sigh and leaned his back against the outside of the closet door.

"You can't stay in there forever, Haley!" he yelled.

"Admit that you are pining after Brooke and I will unlock the door. Otherwise, I am perfectly comfortable in this confined space reading you chicken scratches of a letter," she said sweetly. Lucas groaned.

"No," he responded persistently.

"Fine," Haley remarked as she smoothed out Lucas' letters and began to read in her own version of Lucas Scott's voice. "Dear Brooke, it's only been a few weeks…"

"Okay, I admit it," said Lucas reluctantly.

"Admit what?" Haley urged. Lucas sighed in irritation.

"I admit that I have been pining over Brooke."

"And?" He sighed again and leaned his head against the supply closet in aggravation.

"And I promise I will stop pining over her." At that moment, Lucas heard the key unlock the bolt as Haley slowly swung the door open. There she stood wearing a big smile on her face.

"Good," she replied. Lucas held out his hand as Haley peered down at his opened palm. Disappointed, she placed the wrinkled sheet in his hand. He smiled at Haley's expression. "Now, that that's solved, you wanna help me in the kitchen?" she asked hopefully. Lucas' smile that adorned his face before immediately fell as he impulsively took a few steps backward toward the comfort of the café door. He looked at her nervously.

"Actually, I was thinking I would go and shoot some hoops at the river court." He smiled in spite of himself. "You know, to help me keep my mind off of a certain someone. Isn't that what you suggested to me earlier?" Haley looked at Lucas suspiciously, aware that he was using their deal to his advantage just to avoid work. She shook her head and laughed at Lucas' hopeful expression. If getting Lucas' brooding butt out of her hair for a couple of hours meant a little extra work, than she would gladly oblige. She would have no more depression in her midst. After all Lucas misery had caused her public outburst of emotion earlier.

"Get out of here." She pushed Lucas' lanky figure towards the door and he winked at her as he exited. Haley sighed in relief as she approached the old man in the corner. His plates were already stripped of food as she retrieved them from his table. She was surprised that he hadn't inhaled the plates themselves, what with his massive appetite. The man paid no attention to Haley as he was engrossed in the latest edition of the New York Times. Haley smiled as she placed the plates in the steel stink and shrieked as she felt the hot water nearly scald her hands when she rubbed the plate's surface with the soft sponge. She exhaled. I wonder what Nathan, is doing, she thought to herself.

* * *

It was another day of basketball practice as Nathan ran across the foul line in exhaustion. He grabbed his knees and gasped for any hint of breath to fill his tired lungs. The gymnasium of Arthur Hall was gigantic with its assortment of steel bleachers located on both sides of the court and the freshly-polished wood floor. Six basketball hoops hung from the ceiling as they were each attached to two bars connected to the roof that would automatically go up and down like an elevator at the push of the a button. It was an automated gym,

"Scott, keep your head above your heart!" Nathan looked up at Coach Dwyer, the assistant coach to the High Fliers. He was an aged player whose expanded waist line accounted for his early retirement. Now in his early fifties, Dwyer was attempting to relieve his dreams through the barrage of fresh-youth basketball newcomers. "Don't want to see my star player eating wood." Nathan nodded and turned around as he noticed all of his teammates finally cross the line obviously all out of breath. His friend Mike crossed the line last as he wheezed. Nathan warned him not to eat that tub of ice cream the night before, but Mike had argued that one spoonful of mint chocolate chip, his favorite, was not enough. Mike had managed to eat an entire gallon of ice cream on his own with no other takers.

It was another set of liners Dwyer inflicted upon his players. Dwyer approached the group mumbling to himself. "And Scott beats you all again," he addressed the team with a disappointed look in his eyes. Dwyer looked over at Mike, who was grasping the wall in support, as all his players gathered around their coach. "Rodman, get over here," he barked. Mike looked at Dwyer wearily and stumbled to the circle of teammates. "What the hell was with you today, Rodman. My grandmother could play better basketball than you." he paused and Nathan could almost see a smile form on the gruff man's face. "And she's dead." Everyone laughed as Dwyer raised his eyebrows in Mike's direction.

"Sorry, coach, I think I ate a bit too much last night," Mike replied. Dwyer rolled his eyes.

"Rodman, you know better."

"Sorry coach, it won't happen again."

"It sure as hell better not." Dwyer chewed his lip as Nathan smiled in Mike's direction. "You think it's funny, Scott?" Nathan grew nervous as he looked innocently at his coach and shook his head.

"No, coach," he replied apprehensively. Dwyer cleared his throat and looked as if he were about to say something. He was a man of few words.

"You're all pathetic. Get out of my face," he said waving towards the locker room. Without another word, the players headed to the locker room. Mike walked along side Nathan.

"Man, dawg, that is the last time I will ever eat that much ice cream." Nathan laughed and patted Mike's back as he walked over to his locker. Next week, Mike would be eating another gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough. He just knew it.

As Nathan dug through his locker for a towel, chatter filled the walls of the locker room, and he listened halfheartedly as he wiped his brow of sweat and stripped off hisblack jersey. It was the standard locker room talk; why was Dwyer such an asshole? Good question, Nathan thought to himself. He just was. No ifs ands or buts about it. Truth is, he never gave it much thought. Somehow, Nathan found himself liking the decrepit, old man; harsh remarks and all. Why, you ask; because Dwyer straight and to the point. He didn't dawdle, unlike coaches he had worked with in the past. Nathan admired that in him. Nathan's thoughts were interrupted as he heard the familiar yet distant ring of his cell phone, which vibrated against the lining in his nylon gym bag. Nathan unzipped his bag and pulled the phone out of the pocket. He smiled in recognition as her name popped up on the window of his Nokia phone. He flipped the phone open and put it to his ear in anticipation.

"Hello, Brooke."

_Next: Nathan and Brooke spend a little quality time together…._


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey, ya'll. Sorry it took so long to update, but I have already started working on the next chapter, and that will up so soon. I appreciate all your reviews, and I will continue to write this story if you keep sending them in. Please, if you read it, review. I want to know that people are reading this story. I hate when people read it don't review. It gets discouraging because I think that no one is reading it. So, please review...Anyways, this is a Brooke and Nathan centered chapter. So, I hope ya'll enjoy it. The next chapter will be up soon. _

"Hello, Brooke."

"Hey back at you. What are you doing?"

"Well, right now I'm in the boy's locker room. We just got finished with practice." Brooke smiled as she pictured his teammates hot, sweaty, and half-naked.

"Sounds like I called at just the right time," she added. Nathan chuckled and glanced around the steam infested room as the fog condensed on the windows above his head. "So, what are you wearing?" Brooke jokingly purred into the phone. Nathan decided to play along with her witty repartee as he looked down at his apparel.

"Uh, my air jordans, my black jersey shorts, and a smile." Brooke suddenly longed to be in the boys' locker room to see the smile that was clearly evident on Nathan's handsome face.

"Oh God, tutorboy. Please tell me you are wearing underwear," she gasped.

"Why whatever for?"

"Okay, eww." Nathan laughed as he heard Brooke's revolted reaction.

"Relax, I was just kidding." Brooke arched an eyebrow and leaned back in her father's comfortable, brown leathered armchair; a chair her father never seemed to occupy due to his unrelenting absences at work. "So, what are you wearing?" he teased. She smiled in amusement and didn't even attempt to look at her clothes for she always knew without a doubt what she was wearing and responded instantly.

"A red Calvin Klein tank top, black Calvin Klein jeans, and my trusty Doc Martens."

"Oh God. Please tell me you _aren't_ wearing underwear." Nathan pretend-gasped, mimicking Brooke's earlier comment pertaining to outer garments. She sneered in response.

"Of course, I'm wearing underwear; Victoria's Secret to be exact." She sounded offended that Nathan had even asked and tried to explain her reaction. "The reason I asked if you were wearing any underwear is because one, you never mentioned it to me, and two, men should always wear underwear," she replied matter-of-factly. Nathan sat down on the bench and untied his shoes as he listened to Brooke's theory on the evolution of underwear.

"Oh, really?"

"That's right," Brooke nodded into the phone.

"So does that mean that women should always wear underwear?" Brooke cleared her throat as she attempted to answer Nathan's absurd question.

"As a matter of fact, it is perfectly respectable if women don't wear underwear, or as we like to call, panties, but there are some acceptations to that rule." Nathan expected her to continue with her ramblings, but realized she had been expecting him to ask the obvious question. Why didn't she just continue, Nathan asked himself. Was it her method to ensure he was listening to her? Or was it just one form of Brooke's annoyances? After all, she did seem to have so many of them. He relented to Brooke's will.

"Alright Brooke, what are these acceptations?"

"Well, it isn't proper for a girl to not wear panties when she is wearing a skirt. That is even slutty by my standards. But wearing no panties with a dress is generally accepted, even encouraged, you know because of those stubborn panty lines."

"Right, cause I have to worry about those when I wear dresses," he sarcastically responded. A man he recognized as one of the trainers suddenly turned around to face Nathan. His huge pectorals bulged above his indented six-pack. A gigantic tribal tattoo covered his massive chest, and a white towel hung from his narrow waist, barely concealing what the towel was meant to hide. He spoke with a heavy yet discernable accent due to his Mexican descent, as thought he had difficulty forcing the words out. He frowned at Nathan and shook is head in disgust.

"You know, that explains so much." He rolled his eyes and turned his enormous back to Nathan.

"Nathan, you still there?" Brooke asked. Nathan ignored the trainer and turned his attention back to her.

"Yeah, I'm still here. What did you want to talk about?"

"I wasn't finished with my explanation about why women are not required to wear underwear and why men are." Nathan looked uncomfortably at the half-dressed trainer.

"Can we finished this conversation another time?" he whispered into the phone.

"What's the matter? Is there some naked man standing next to you listening to our inappropriate conversation?" she asked.

"Pretty much," he nodded.

"Is he cute?"

"Brooke, I am not going to dignify that question with a response," he said irritably as he stripped off his shorts, now clad in his favorite pair of boxer briefs.

"So what's going on?" he asked as he sat back down on the bench.

"Well, I just want to know if your schedule was clear tonight because mine is totally clear."

"Why, what did you have in mind?" he asked as a smile came to his face.

"I was thinking we could play some miniature golf. I've never played before, but my dad said he had a blast playing with some of his coworkers last week. What do you say?" Hmm, Nathan thought to himself. An evening watching his roommate, Mike, cursing obscenities because he died while playing Halo, or an evening playing miniature golf with Brooke? It wasn't too difficult to answer.

"Sounds cool, dude. What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"Actually, I figured I could swing by your place. I don't really fancy another joyride in that rust bucket of yours," she replied.

"Hey, you can insult me all you want, but never insult Stewie."

"Stewie?"

"Yeah," Nathan hesitated. "That's the name of my car," he admitted. Nathan jerked the phone form his ear because all he could hear on the other end was Brooke's incessant laughter. He put the phone back to his ear when her laughs subsided.

"You name your car?" she asked between giggles. Nathan was taken aback as he blushed.

"Yeah, so?"

"You just lost some cool points with me," she added. "So what's your address," she attempted to change the subject.

"Carnegie Hall, number 32; it's on 6th Street." He heard Brooke scribbling his address down and he continued. "Do you think you can find it?"

"Yeah, I should be able to. My dad recently installed one of those hi-tech navigational systems in my car. If I can't find you, then I am completely hopeless."

"Just remember to be ten percent smarter than your equipment," he joked. Brooke smiled. "So, what time will you be by?"

"Well, it's 5:30 now. So I will be there around 7."

"Cool, so I will see you then."

"Yeah, unless the Gap is having a sale, I will be there."

"Alright. See you soon, Brooke."

"Bye tutorboy." Brooke ended the call and breathed a sigh of relief. At least she had plans to hang out with someone besides herself. Yes, it had been nearly a week since Brooke had last spoken to her hometown buddy. It was a week filled with sensuous body massages, manicures, and a lack of shopping due to her injury. She had reapplied countless bandages to her hands as well as knees and even soaked her sore feet in a soothing solution of Aveeno foot wash. Already her scars had nearly faded, and it no longer hurt like a bitch when she took her morning showers.

Brooke looked up the clock again and noticed five minutes had already passed since she had ended her conversation with Nathan. She reluctantly got up from her extremely comfortable position on the recliner and drug her feet to the bathroom because she still needed to take a shower before her appointment with Nathan. Brooke pulled off her shirt before she reached the bathroom and dropped it on the bedroom floor. Conveniently, Brooke had her own suite witha king-sized bathroom that had both an enclosed shower and a jacuzzi bathtub in the center of the circular room. Removing the rest of her clothes, she grudgingly stepped on the bathroom scale and peered down at the digital, blinking numbers. She smiled in surprise as she saw the numbers blinking back at her: 105. Yes, she was back to her former weight. So much for those five extra pounds she had added to her 5'3'' frame with the constant consumption of cheetos. No more running for me, Brooke thought to herself as she climbed into the porcelain shower and allowed the water to soak her face. It's amazing what sitting on your inactive ass for a week can accomplish.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the shower and wrapped her beach-sized Sponge Bob Square Pants bath towel around her shivering self. Brooke walked towards her walk-in closet with her towel still wrapped tight around her and surveyed her clothing options. She chose to go casual byselecting a long-sleeved, pink-and-white-striped v-neck and a pair of white capris. Brooke managed to dry her hair, which she allowed to cascade down her bronzed shoulders, apply her demure makeup with sheer expertise, and finally dress herself. Her last accessories were her shoes as she grabbed a pair of white tennis shoes and laced them up. As Brooke tied her shoes, she glanced up at the grandfather clock and realized she was going to be late for it was already 7 o'clock.

She rushed outside after locking the door to her parents' mansion and found herself safe within the confines of her bug. Brooke started the ignition and heard the faint sounds of her engine as she punched Nathan's address into the newly-installed navigation system located above her five disc CD changer and drove off to her destination.

* * *

Nathan sighed as he leaned back against the second-hand cushions of the chair he and Mike brought at the Salvation Army. She was late. Not that he was surprised. He really hadn't expected her to be on time.

"I got you, you son of a bitch!" Nathan looked over at an anxious Mike who was literally glued to the television screen as he fondled the control to his game of Halo.

"Mike, dude, maybe if you talk to the TV enough, it will start talking back to you," he joked. Mike paused his game and looked over at Nathan in agitation.

"If I was you, I'd be quiet."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself."

"Fool, you are cruisin' for a bruisin'," he warned as he turned his attention back to the game.

"I think that expression went out like in the eighties," Nathan chuckled.

"'Aint you got nothing better do but just be sittin' around here and cirticisin' me, dawg?"

"Nah, not really."

"I thought you was goin' out with that fine ass number?"

"That fine has number has a name: Brooke."

"Whatever. I'm just gonna start callin' her fine ass cause you know what she is?" Mike paused his game once again looked over at Nathan seriously. Nathan shrugged. "Fine ass." Nathan laughed as Mike grinned and turned back to his game of Halo.

"Yeah well, I wouldn't say that to her face if I were you; not unless you want her to kick your ass. And knowing Brooke, she probably could."

"Please. A little 5 foot, 90 pound girl is gonna kick my ass?" He paused and turned to Nathan. "Actually, I just might let her." Nathan shook his head in pity.

"That's just sad."

"Yeah, well we can't all be as tall and good-looking as you, Tree Hill. So, where she at anyway?"

"I don't know. She probably got stuck looking at herself in the mirror." Nathan rolled his eyes.

"Aww, she one of 'dem high maintenance broads, 'aint she?" Mike nodded his head in understanding.

"Oh, yeah," he murmured. Instantly, Nathan and Mike's conversation was cut short by a soft rap on the door, and he immediately got up from his seat. Nathan looked over his shoulder in Mike's direction as he walked towards the door. "Speaking of high maintenance." He heard Mike chuckle as he opened the door.

"What did I hear about high maintenance?" Brooke asked.

"Oh, we were just talking about Mike's grooming habits," Nathan quickly replied. Brooke wore a disbelieving expression on her face. "So, look who decided to grace us with her presence. Your late by the way," Nathan said as he closed the door behind Brooke after she entered.

"No, I'm not. I said I would be here around 7, and it's..." Brooke grabbed an unsuspecting Nathan's arm and looked at his watch and frowned in concentration as she attempted to read the roman numerals. Admitting defeat, she threw her hands in the air, "around 7," she declared, albeit halfheartedly. Nathan smirked and looked at his watch.

"Brooke, it's 7:30." Nathan pointed at his wristwatch.

"I knew that. It's just you're wearing one of _those_ watches," she sighed.

"What kind of watch are you talking about?"

"You know, those kinds of watches with hands and those weird symbols," she added as she looked up at him innocently. Nathan smiled as put his hand on Brooke's shoulder and held his arm containing the watch just inches from her face.

"Well, you see these symbols, Brooke? They're called roman numerals. And when the long hand is just past this little V here with and l, then it's 7." Brooke glared at Nathan with extreme irritation and was intent to interrupt Nathan's little lesson on telling time, but Nathan continued. "And when the little hand is on the V and l, then that a 30. Get it Brooke? It's 7:30." He smiled at Brooke's naivety. She was so unlike Haley. Usually, it would've been Haley who had given Nathan a lesson, hence his nickname of tutorboy Brooke had so generously bestowed upon him. But this time, the tables sure had turned, as Nathan had evidently taken his rightful place behind the steering wheel. It felt great knowing that he had never been in that position before, but now he was forced to compensate.

"Oh, why couldn't you just have a digital watch, you smart-ass!" Brooke smacked Nathan's arm, and he recoiled in laughter. "So, are you going to give me the official tour or what?" she asked impatiently as she looked around the apartment. Nathan stopped laughing.

"Oh yeah, umm that's the bedroom," Nathan languidly pointed to Brooke's right, "and that's the bathroom next to it,. That's the kitchen," he pointed to her left as she struggled to keep up with his quick gestures. "And you are standing in the living room, where my annoying roommate currently resides." Brooke looked over at Mike in curiosity.

"Hey man, I heard that," Mike responded grumpily as his eyes never left the television screen.

"Nice place you got here, Nate," Brooke added with a hint of sarcasm as she examined the faded carpet, 70's-inspired kitchen, and the peeled ceiling.

"Hey, I have a budget, alright," Nathan explained. Brooke chuckled.

"So, you ready to go do some miniature golfing?" she asked.

"I am if you are. Lead the way." Brooke walked to the door, and Nathan followed suit. "Bye Mike." There was no response as Nathan opened the door. "Don't mind him. He's a video game junkie with nothing better to do with his time," he told Brooke.

"Hey man, I heard that!" Mike shouted from behind the sofa, apparently too engrossed in his game to bid Nathan a proper adieu.

"Bye Mike, " Brooke yelled as the door was halfway open. Mike's ears perked at the sound of herhusky voice as he immediately forgot about his game of Halo and peeped his q-tip shaped head over the top of the sofa. Mike gazed at a departing figure of Brooke with adoring eyes. She had acknowledged his presence, and he felt whole again.

"Goodbye beautiful," he spoke dreamily. Brooke's cheeks burned with blush.

"Mike, I think you just died..." Nathan interjected.

"And gone to heaven," he sighed as he gazed at Brooke still wearing the same dreamy expression.

"No, I mean your Halo player just died." Nathan pointed to the screen. Mike was suddenly pulled out of his dream state, and his eyes grew wide with panic as he scrambled toward his control in desperation. He slammed down the control in frustration as he realized the demise of his player.

"No!" he wailed as he looked up the ceiling pleading to the heavens above. "How can you do this to me?" Then his expression changed to one of determination as he looked at the television. "Damn, you mother..." Nathan closed the door at the sound of Mike's incessant cursing of Halo. Brooke looked at Nathan in bewilderment as they walked out of the complex to her car.

"Well, that boy seems passionate about his Halo," she muttered.

"More like retarded," Nathan replied dryly. Brooke laughed as she got into the driver's seat, and Nathan got into the passenger's side.

After Brooke had been driving for a few short minutes, Nathan interrupted the silence that had engulfed the car.

"This is such a chick car," he said. Brooke nodded her head in agreement.

"For once I agree with you. You wanna know why I bought it?" she responded.

"Why?"

"Because no guy would ever want to drive a chick car." Nathan smiled and glanced at Brooke as an oncoming headlight beam hit her face and she was bathed in the light. He noticed for the first time that Brooke's eyes weren't really brown, but more a shade of hazel with specks of green scattered across the iris. Funny how he never noticed how very entrancing her eyes were until that moment.

"You know, I think this is the first time I have ever been in your car," he realized aloud. Brooke pondered Nathan's realization.

"You're right. The only people that have ever been inside my carare myself, Peyton, Lucas, and tutorgirl," she glanced over at Nathan's fallen expression nervously, "er, I mean Haley." She turned her eyes back to the road. Great thinking, Brooke. Mention the wife who abandoned him for some wannabe rocker star who has a really bad habit of abusing hair gel, she scolded herself.

"Not that buying a chick car ever prevented some guys from driving my car. In fact, I remember Lucas driving it several times," she paused as she thought. "Yep, Lucas passed that test with flying colors." She looked at Nathan out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. He smiled gratefully at the bizarre comment, and Brooke sighed in relief.

"What test?"

"By driving my ultra-chick car, Lucas proved to me that he is comfortable with his sexuality. You know, he's not afraid to embrace his feminine side. I dig that about him." Nathan laughed at her comment.

"You make him sound like a pansy-ass mamma's boy, which come to think of it, he is." Brooke frowned and glared angrily at Nathan.

"Look, I know you two aren't getting along, but that gives you no right to insult him in front of me. I don't appreciate hearing about someone whom I care deeply about being degraded."

"I can't believe you're sticking up for that asshole after everything he's done to you..." Nathan shouted.

"I forgave Lucas a long time ago, Nathan, and you should to." Brooke calmly stated this as she stared at the road ahead, which suddenly seemed to go on for hundreds of miles.

"Forgive him for what, lying to me about Dan or about Haley? Brooke, he betrayed me." Nathan's voice grew an octave higher as Brooked gripped the steering wheel tight. Suddenly, a friendly car ride had turned into an unexpected screaming match based on who could scream the loudest. Brooke looked over at Nathan as his nostrils flared with anger. "If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have met Haley, and he's the reason my life fell apart last year." Nathan's complexion grew red as Brook's grip around the steering wheel continued to tighten intensely.

"You can't blame Lucas for you and Haley not working out. It had nothing to do with him. Obviously, something went wrong in your marriage, and the blame should be placed upon the two people involved: you and Haley," Brooke pointed to Nathan at the mention of his name and quickly returned her hand to her tense grip on the steering wheel. Nathan raised his eyebrows and snorted.

"Oh, so now it's my fault, huh?"

"Yes, Nathan. Lucas was no more responsible for your impending divorce, no more than me being responsible for Lucas and I breaking up," she paused as she searched for the right words. "Just be a man and admit it!" She glanced at Nathan's angry expression out of the corner of her right eye. If Nathanwas a kettle, his lid had already blown off at that exact moment. Brooke never remembered Nathan looking angrier in that instant, and suddenly she regretted her choice of words. She had clearly hit a nerve. Miniature golf was sounding so good right now.

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a slut, then Lucas would've never dumped you for, who was it again, oh yeah, your best friend." He smiled in contentment at the horrified look on Brooke's face and turned to look out his window in satisfaction. Nathan noticed nature's green flash by, but immediately noticed the flashes come to a halt as Brooke slammed her foot on the brakes. Nathan's nose connected with Brooke's glove box on impact. He yelped back in pain as he covered his throbbing nose and looked at Brooke accusingly.

"Are you freaking crazy?" he barked as Brooke looked at him through cold eyes. Brooke swiftly undid her seatbelt and leaned over Nathan's lap to open his door.

"Get out."

"What?"

"I said get out!" she shrieked as she pushed Nathan's broad shoulder's out of the car with all the might of her small upper body. Nathan stared at her dumbfounded. He had never seen Brooke angrier. Her beautiful face was distorted in fury as she looked at him with the door still ajar standing on the side of the road clutching his bloody nose.

"Look, whatever I said..." Nathan stammered.

"I don't want to hear it, Nathan. Maybe call me tomorrow if I decide to answer my phone. Until then, enjoy your long walk home." Brooke slammed the car door in Nathan's face and sped off. Nathan turned helplessly in the direction of Brooke's fleeting car.

"Brooke!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

After waiting several minutes, Nathan finally realized Brooke wasn't coming back. She really had left him to walk the 15 miles home to his apartment in the middle of the night. Nathan looked at his surroundings and realized he was on a country road surround by woods. He sighed in frustration and started walking home. All thoughts of hitchhiking were lost as he pictured how he wouldappear to oncoming traffic, especially with his face covered in blood. They would probably think he was a lunatic who had somehow escaped the throes of the nearest insane asylum. He had also left his cell phone back at the apartment. All his communication to the outside world was nearly 15 miles away; 15 endless and tedious miles away. Nathan looked at the never-ending road ahead as he walked. This was going to be a long night.

_Next Chapter: The apology..._


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry. You guys can kill me. I know it's been forever since I last updated, but here's an extremely long chapter to make up for that fact. I just started college, andso I have been pretty busy. I appreciate all your reviews. It's what keeps me going. Please continue to read and review, and I will keep writing. If you are able, let others know about how great this story is (ha ha, well I hope you think it is at least) so they can read and review. The more people the better. I think you will all enjoy this chapter. I know I enjoyed writing it. Also, keep in mind with the character of Mike and his language. He doesn't speak the way most normal people speak. The words in his quotes may appear misspelled, when in reality there is no way to spell the words he says. Mike is from the hood. That is how he speaks because he has lived his entire life on the street. I just thought you should all know, so no one would be offended by thinking they were misspelled words. Anyways, on to the story. Remember people, read and review, and I will get the next chapter out very soon. Love you guys...Woot woot_

_  
Chapter 8_

It was an endless night of tossing and turning for Nathan Scott as he looked intensely at the crumbling ceiling of his Los Angeles apartment. After walking nearly 15 miles home the night before, Nathan fell into bed completely exhausted at midnight. The last time Nathan remembered ever walking to that extent was when Coach Whitey kicked he and Lucas off the school bus and left them in the middle of nowhere with no signs of civilization. Lucas. Dammit, Nathan thought to himself. That's how the whole evening ended with a conversation about Lucas, and Brooke abandoned him on the side of the road. Well, it was more of a shouting competition with no mediator. He said a few wrong things, and he gets kicked to the curb. Luckily for Brooke, she had been in the driver's seat, because if the situation were reversed, he would've done the same thing. Suddenly, he pictured a wandering brunette skulking thorough the midnight woods, and a smile plastered his face. The smile didn't last long for his mind was plagued with visions of angry Brookes dancing around his head. So much for counting sheep; now I'm counting angry Brookes, he said to himself.

Okay, maybe he did feel a little bad about leaving things that way with Brooke. Maybe his anger did get the best of him. Okay, his anger did get the best of him, which he often allowed. He couldn't help it. Every time someone broached the subject of Lucas, all he could see were angry shades of red from all sides of the perspective. Brooke couldn't possibly understand his hatred toward his older half brother because she was so clearly blinded-sided by all the lies that spewed from his lips; the same lies he himself had believed earlier that year. Lucas had lied to him about visiting Haley and about blackmailing their father. He had evidently remembered asking Lucas to no longer pursue the destruction of Dan, and Lucas looking at him pointblank to say, "I promise." Those two words hit Nathan like a ton of bricks. He had heard those words a number of times in his life; the first incident being the latter and when he married Haley. It's not like he gave a damn about Dan anyways. He would've gladly ruined Dan himself, but the problem always returned to his mother. His mother was determined to put the broken remains of the Scott family back together, and that included making Dan a part of that aspect. To Nathan mother, who had just gotten out of rehab, it was to be a fresh start. Nathan complied with his mother's wishes because not only did he believe her words, but also he wanted to compensate for the fact that he was such a dick to her all those years before. Lucas had nearly ruined all of that by providing his mother with evidence of Dan's illegal activities. This was the very same evidence his mother chose not to pursue despite her resistance. Lucas had broken his promise to Nathan.

Then of course there was Haley. Lucas lied to Nathan about visiting Haley in New York, and he brought back annulment papers to prove it. They were signed and ready to go by the time Nathan discovered them. And that was the last time Nathan spoke to his brother. He sighed as he rolled over on his side to the present time.

"Yo, dawg. There's some cold pizza on the counter if you hungry. Better hurry before I finish it." Mike stuck his q-tip-shaped head in Nathan's room.

"What time is it?" Nathan yawned groggily as he stretched his limber body across the mattress.

"I don't know. Do I like a damn Rolex to you?" He sighed as he stepped into his roommate's bedroom. Nathan opened his eyes and took in Mike's disheveled appearance. He was wearing a sleeveless Shaquille O'Neal jersey from his Lakers days and was clad in an obnoxious pair of boxers covered in red and green jalapenos. Nathan shook his head in dismay and sat up in bed to grab his wristwatch off of his dresser.

"It's noon," he declared as he looked at Mike with a smirk on his face. Mike was shoveling a cold slice of pepperoni pizza into his massive mouth as he glanced at Nathan. "At least one of us knows how to tell the time around here." Nathan pressed his feet against the cold floor and shivered as he walked into the kitchen with Mike following close behind. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a half-empty carton of milk and observed the expiration date as the day before. Systematically, he removed the lid and smelled the contents of the container and then poured himself a bowl of Lucky Charms. Mike grabbed another slice of pizza and gagged at Nathan eating a spoonful of his favorite cereal.

"You sick man."

"What?" Nathan asked as he looked between bites. Mike pointed to the expired milk container sitting on the counter.

"That milk is older than my socks." Nathan looked down at his bowl of cereal and shrugged.

"It tastes fine to me," he mumbled. Mike shook his head in disgust.

"Whateva' you say, Tree Hill. So, uh, how'd it go with fine ass last night?" Nathan nearly choked on a marshmallow balloon at the mention of Brooke. He attempted to clear his throat subtlety but to no avail.

"Fine."

"Yeah, will I figga' that. You didn't get back 'til late last nigh. I heard you stumblin' in hear at the ass crack of dawn." Mike took another bite of his pizza. "So, did you do it?"

Nathan spat a mouthful of cereal onto the table at the sound of Mike's question.

"No, Mike. We didn't do the "it" you are referring to. I told you, we're just friends."

"I'm just sayin', I don't see how any playa' could be just friends wit' her. You either gots to be terrified of the genral population of women or just downright gay." Nathan smiled.

"I'm not gay, and I'm not afraid of women. Well, maybe except for Brooke. She can be a little scary at times," he paused as he ate another spoonful of cereal. "Last night she dropped me off in the middle of nowhere because we had a stupid fight."

"What y'all fight about?"

Well, I pretty much dogged her ex-boyfriend who I hate and who also happens to be a brother of mine."

"Aww, well that ain't that bad," Mike replied.

"Yeah, but then I called her aslut, and I swear if hell could freeze over, it sure as hell froze over at that moment."

"You, what? Are you crazy, dawg?"

"Yeah, it was so stupid. I just got so mad when she defended Lucas."

"A'ight. Lemme give you a little advice bro. You ain't neva' suppose to call a woman a slut to her face," Mike paused in thought. "You call ''dem sluts behind their backs." Mike slapped Nathan on his back and hooted in laughter at his own cleverness. Nathan rolled his eyes.

"This, coming from the guy who has never had a girlfriend." Nathan added dryly. Mike looked up in horror and snorted.

"Hey man, I don't prefer 'dat term: girlfriend. Plus, how in the hell would you know?"

"Well, you've never brought a girl over..." Nathan sipped the contents of his cereal bowl. Mike recoiled at the sight of Nathan's dastardly manners.

"Oh, boy! Didn't yo' mama ever teach ya to use a spoon? And anyways, you think I bring a girl over to this dump. Hell to da' no. Not if I want to have a shot at gettin' some." Nathan laughed and shook his head as he looked at Mike.

"I thought you were dating Halo?" he asked.

"Halo?"

"Yeah, you know that video game you've been obsessing over ever since we moved into this so-called dump." Mike pretended to look offended, which made Nathan grin even more.

"Hey, don't diss my Halo, man. I don't diss yo' nasty cleaning habits. Besides, I got my own prospects." Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, like who?"

"Well, there's 'dat nice-lookin' woman down da' street. You know, 'da one 'dat works at 'dat pet shop? Well, I figga' she wants me cause she always smilin' at me and wavin'. Yeah, I'm almost positive she wants a little "somthin' somthin'" from the love machine." Mike enthusiastically thrust his hips into the air as he leaned into the counter. Nathan laughed as he put his bowl into the sink.

"Ok, you mean Nicole?" Mike nodded as he turned to face Nathan.

"Yeah, how'd ya' know her name?" Mike asked in curiosity.

"Oh, she asked for my phone number last week," Nathan stated matter-of-factly while he opened the fridge and retrieved a box of orange juice. It was Mike's turn to gag on his slimy, cold piece of pizza that had just met his lips.

"You what? I can't believe ya, dawg. Every time a playa' such as myself, "Mike gestured to himself, "wanna get some action, you comin' and hornin' in on my game." Nathan listened as he poured the orange liquid into a smudged glass and took a gulp.

"I didn't give her my number, Mike," he reassured him. Mike's agitated expression instantly turned to relief. "But I did get her number." He smiled in satisfaction at the altering expressions on Mike's baby face as they would switch to anger to relief and revert back to anger again in a millisecond.

"What?" Mike shuddered in horror.

"I got the number for you, Mike." Once again, Mike's face was on autopilot as its aggression adorned to relief.

"Oh, wow! That's more like it!" Mike followed Nathan to his room, and Nathan opened the drawer to his nightstand as he rummaged through several gas receipts and additional phone numbers until he finally pulled out Nicole's number and gave it to a speechless Mike.

"There you go."

"Thanks, Tree Hill." Mike smiled as he examined the crumpled piece of paper with her name scribbled in purple handwriting and admired the purple heart placed over the "I" in her name. "Since you done somethin' nice for me, I'm gonna do somethin' nice for you. I'm gonna give you a bit of advice, dawg. Call fine ass and apologize."

"But I don't want to. It's not my fault." Nathan sighed in frustration as he sat down on his bed and looked up at Mike standing there in his ridiulous wardrobe.

"Yeah, well you a man. It's always gonna be yo' fault even if it ain't. A woman is always right. If she cheat on you, then you cheated on her. It's yo' fault." Nathan looked at Mike in bemusement.

"You suck at giving advice dude," Nathan grumbled. Mike brushed Nathan's comment of his should and continued.

"Seriously, dawg. You got to call her and at least talk to 'da girl." Mike pulled his cell phone out from the waist bend of his boxers and handed it to Nathan. "Hell, you can use my phone to call so she know it ain't you." Nathan looked at Mike's Nokia in repulsion. Mike noticed his reaction. "Shut up. Don't even say it. Where else am I suppose to put my phone if I ain't wearin' no pants?"

"What else do you keep in there?" Mike followed Nathan's glance to his jalapeno pepper boxers.

"I ain't got no room for nothin' else down there," he grinned proudly. "Anyway, call her. I'll supervise." Mike pointed to the phone in Nathan's hand. Nathan sighed and reluctantly punched Brooke's number into the device and cautiously put the phone to his ear to await her answer.

"Hi, this is Brooke Davis." Nathan immediately heard her phone transfer to her voice mail, and he had encountered electronic convenience, or just another method for someone to avoid phone calls. "I'm either too busy to come to the phone right now or I'm screening and won't answer because I totally don't like you. Leave a message, and I _might_ call you back." Nathan heard the beep and hung up in relief and looked up at Mike who had his arms crossed as if he were taking the role of supervisor a little too seriously.

"She knew it was me. Somehow she knew," Nathan sadly admitted.

* * *

_Dear Lucas,_

_Hey there! Remember me? How's your summer so far? Mine has been great. I spend a lot of time with my parents, who both took the summer off to suspend some much-needed time with their daughter. We live in this huge mansion on the beach. It's so massive that I have managed to get lost several time. But then again, you know me. I get lost crossing a street. Oh, we also have this gigantic library with so many books that they are literally stacked to the ceiling The old book smell remind me of you. Uh, I'm not saying you smell like old books. Actually, you smell a lot better than old books, kind of like a mixture of aftershave and the mountains. But that's beside the point. Anyways, I've actually taken to reading some of these "smelly" books, surprisingly enough. Right now I'm in the middle of Grapes of Wrath. You know, that's that book you tried to get me to read last year but I couldn't get into it because I thought the entire book was about grapes. My mistake. All in all, I'm having the best time of my life here. _

_Oh, who am I kidding. I could never lie to you. All of the above is untrue (excluding the library part, and yes I am reading that book). I am having a horrible summer. My parents are hardly around, and I'm all-alone in this creepy mansion, which I have gotten lost in by the way. I don't have any friends here, well except for one. But we just got into a huge fight, and some of it is my fault/ I should be more sensitive to other people's feelings shouldn't I? And yet I'm too stubborn to apologize. Anyhow, I miss everyone in Tree Hill. I miss everything about Tree Hill. _

_I miss being woken up at 5 in the morning because that irritating neighbor of yours plays that stupid Army song via surround sound. I missing bugging Peyton. I miss your mom's cooking. I miss walking in on you in the shower. I miss my dollhouse. Mostly I just missing being the girl behind the red door. Only you and I know what that means. I 'I've been thinking a lot about what you told me before I left for California, but I still have a lot of thinking to do. But you must know that I miss you very much and think of you often. I know that I will never send this letter because I am too chicken shit. Somehow it is therapeutic to sit and write my feelings down on a piece of my favorite stationary and enclose the letter in a sealed envelope addressed to you. I do this everyday, but I fail to send it. But it brings me closer to home. After all, I am absolutely miserable without my Tree Hill. _

_Love Always,_

_Cheery_

Brooke sighed heavily as she laid on her stomach sprawled atop her bed while her chin was prepped up against the bulk of her red throw pillow. She stared at the envelope the bore the address of Lucas Scott, and she hesitantly folded the letter and placed it into the envelope, which she sealed. Kicking the letter aside, she turned her body to lay on her backside side as she stared blankly at the tid-bits of glitter in her ceiling. Ever so slowly, Brooke's eyes grew heavy with the promise of sleep as her eyes nearly succumbed to her drowsy state.

It was another glorious afternoon in the smog-infested city of Los Angeles; it was the perfect kind of weather to fly one's kite through the effervescent skies. It was the kind of afternoon comparable to those Technicolor films in the 1940s when the bluebird would awaken the entire suburban neighborhood with its rampant chirping. However, Brooke had never been a friendly neighbor, as _Mr. Rogers _would say. In fact, she was the ungrateful neighbor who sought a way to kill that irritating bluebird, resulting in the sudden departure of Technicolor and the reemergence of black and white. Yep, she was a black and white kind of gal, not exactly a morning person really. But what was Brooke Davis doing asleep in the middle of a perfectly good tanning day you ask? Two words: Nathan Scott. Brooke could never remember feeling so angry with someone. She never figured she'd get into such a quibble with someone she used to know only as her best friend's jackass of a boyfriend. They had never been close, and neither ever really to mind. Brooke and Nathan just went on with their own separate lives; perhaps they would bump into one another at group organizations or whatever, but they never had a conversation that lasted beyond two minutes tops. They seemed to be social acquaintances more so than anything else. Sadly, they never even considered themselves friends. So then why did Brooke decide to invest her summer in recruiting Nathan as her newest buddy? And why was it that as soon as they had started approaching some semblance of a friendship did they both decide to bite each others' heads off? "Maybe it was a sign. Maybe that means we shouldn't be friends," Brooke thought to herself.

Brooke recalled the fight and she could hear the world "slut" roll off of Nathan's tongue like it was a regular part of his vocabulary. Brooke had been called a slut many times before that she was accustomed to it and even considered forgoing her middle name and replacing it with that filthy word. Nathan had even called her a slut before, but Brooke had never taken it to heart; until now, that is. His words had pierced through her heart like a dagger. The term reminded Brooke of a past she yearned to forget. But you can't run away from one's past despite one's honorable intentions. Forcing all thoughts of Nathan out of her head, Brooke's eyes fluttered in drowsiness as she was whisked away into a delightful afternoon map. Served her right after the lack of sleep the night before. She had completely wasted her time thinking about him.

Brooke groaned as she heard a sound coming from what sounded like the kitchen. The parents were not supposed to be home until the day after, so it couldn't be them. Brooke glanced at her alarm. IT was almost 6:00 p.m.. She had been asleep for nearly three hours. Cursing the kitchen perpetrator for walking her during her peaceful slumber, Brooke pulled off the covers of her pajama- clad body and sunk her feet into her fuzzy, pink slippers. She tiptoed to her door, which was slightly ajar and peeked one hazel eye through the slit as if expecting a visitor. Brooke could only see the white walls and shiny wood floors of the hall. Suddenly, Brooke jumped back a few feet from the door when she heard an object crash onto the kitchen tile. Her heat leapt into her throat as all fearlessness faded from her mind and body. She instinctively wrapped her arms around pint-sized self in protective mode, and her mind raced with an onslaught of panicking thoughts. What if it's a burglar? Did I lock the door? She shook her head and realized she had no weapon of any sort of protect herself.

Brooke hurriedly glanced around her room for a sharp, blunt object and picked up a bottle of red nail polish in thought. "Yeah, Brooke, a bottle of nail polish is really gonna bring the house invader to his knees," she said quietly to herself. She quickly placed the bottle back on its original shelf space and soon found herself in the bathroom, where she immediately spotted the toilet brush. She shrugged and grabbed the hand of the brush and began to make her way back to her bedroom door. She held her breath as she slowly opened the door and her pink slippers gingerly stepped into the hallways. Brooke spied the living room about 20 yards ahead to her left and knew full well the kitchen was to her right past the hall. With no plan of attack and her trusty toilet brush in hand, she cautiously made her way toward the kitchen by avoiding any creaky floorboards. As she reached the barrier that separated the kitchen and living room, she stopped in her tracks. Her heartbeat suddenly quickened as she heard someone rummaging through the drawers. She silently drew a deep breath and attempted to think of a plan. She couldn't call the police. Her cell phone was in the laundry room where she had been in the process of washing her clothes, and the home phone was in the kitchen. She looked at the front door ahead, which was located between the kitchen and living room and thought about running for it, but she changed her mind as the criminal would undoubtedly be faster than herself. She took another step and realized she was just about to do the stupidest thing she could possibly do. She was going to confront the burglar in hopes that his back would be turned and she would be able to use the proper defense mechanism that Mrs. Lowell, her defensive training teacher, had taught her and knock him to the ground. "A kick to the nuts ought a do it," Brooke convinced herself. She nodded in satisfaction and crept to the end of the barrier. She could still hear someone rummaging thought one of the drawers. Ever so carefully, Brooked peeped around the barrier's corner and immediately spied the culprit, who was rummaging for something beneath the sink with his Back to Brooke. _Bingo._

"Hold it right there, buddy!" She yelled as she stepped into the kitchen facing the man's back. The culprit paused suddenly, yet he remained in the same position. "Stay right where you are. I've already called the police. They'll be here any minute." Her voice was tense as she stood ready to pounce. "I've got a..." Brooke looked at the toilet brush clutched in her hand and nervously continued, "a, uh, gun in my hand, and if you try anything, I swear to God I will kill!" She raised the brush in her hand as if ready to strike him aside the head. The culprit did not so much as move, but he spoke.

"Brooke?" She frowned as she seemed to recognize the man's voice.

"Nathan?" As if on cue, he turned around and met her petrified eyes, yet he still remained hunched near the sink. "What are you doing here, and why are you rummaging through my parents' things?" She looked around the kitchen and spotted her mother's beloved green vase that she had bought in Thailand, or at least what was left of it. Instead, the vase lay broken in green shards of glass on the ceramic tile beneath the kitchen stove. Brooke looked up at Nathan questioningly, who bore a guilty expression. Brooke raised her eyebrows. "Well, are you gonna say anything or are you just gonna stand there like the idiot that you are?" Nathan looked taken aback but calmed himself before finally speaking.

"I came over here to talk to you about last night. You wouldn't answer your cell, so I drove down to your house and figured you were home because I saw your car parked out front. I knocked on your door, but no one answered. I thought somehow you knew it was me and you were ignoring me. But, I found the door unlocked, and I called your name a few times. I found myself in the kitchen, where I accidentally bumped into that vase there." He pointed to the paces of glass at their feet. He stood up suddenly as Brooke took a step back. "I couldn't find a garbage can to clean the mess up, so I was looking in the cabinets for a trash bag when you walked in." He raised an eyebrow at Brooke. "Are you satisfied with my explanation?" She glared at him in repulsion and opened the cabinet beside the stove and pulled out a small garbage can. She sighed as she sat down and began to throw the shards of glass into the can. Nathan swore to himself as he reluctantly joined Brooke to help pick up what seemed to be thousands of confetti pieces. He looked up at Brooke, who was too engrossed in the process of discarding the glass to notice his attention.

"I'm sorry, Brooke. It was an accident," he apologized She finally looked up at him wearing a frown as she heard his attempt at half of an apology.

"Sorry for what; causing the argument we had last night or for breaking mo mother's favorite vase?" She sneered at him she continued picking up pieces of glass. Nathan rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry for breaking the vase. Can it be replaced?" His voice was full of hope when he asked her.

"Nope. It's one of a kind. My mother bought it in Thailand." She looked up again at Nathan, but her expression was softer than her previous glances as she noticed the look of concern in his eyes. "But it's not your fault. Accidents happen. Besides, my mother would kill me if she knew I moved the case from the coffee table to the kitchen table just so I could put my feet up on coffee table. She gonna murder me anyways when she finds her beloved vase missing. Oh well, nothing I can do about it," She sighed as she chucked the last piece of vase into the garbage and both stood simultaneously. She looked at Nathan and the two exchanged awkward glances. Tired of non-verbal Nathan, Brooke turned on her heels and walked to the living room where she planted herself in her father's chair. Taking her lead, Nathan followed her to the living room and sat on the sofa. He sat with his elbows atop his knees and his hands clasped anxiously together. Brooke's feet, still adorned in her pink slippers, were cuddled beneath her as she stared at him expectantly. Nathan noticed her look and obliged.

"I didn't mean anything I said last night, okay."

"Oh, like when you called me a slut?" she snarled.

"Especially when I called you _that_," Nathan looked uncomfortably at his hands. "You're not a slut, Brooke."

"Oh, I'm not. Tell me something I didn't know." Nathan avoided her cold gaze as he continued speaking.

"Your relationship with Lucas is none of my business, and I had no right to discuss it.." Nathan looked at Brooke for assurance.

"Go on," she nodded.

"I can't even being to tell you all the problems Lucas and I have. I can't forgive him. you see, that's how you and I are so different Brooke. You can forgive people like Lucas. I just can't. I can't forgive Lucas. I can't even seem to forgive Haley." Nathan looked at Brooke, whose gaze was no longer cold. In fact, her eyes seemed to understand Nathan's misery. "And I guess the reason I blew up at you last night is because of that. I guess in a way, I resent you." Brooke sighed heavily and pulled her legs up to her chest as she leaned back into the recliner.

"I understand, Nathan. Believe me. I was in the same position this, what with the whole Pacey, Joey, and Dawson scenario." She averted her gaze from Nathan's as she spoke. It was as if she were embarrassed to be speaking to Nathan about something so personal. But she continued. For some unexplainable reason, something felt so right about sharing her experiences with Nathan. "It took me a long time to forgive Lucas and Peyton, but I realized I had to. I'd be just as bad as them if I didn't. Until this day, it was the hardest thing I have ever done." Nathan's eyes filled with admiration for the woman before him. He had never met someone so forgiving, and suddenly he felt an urge to learn more from her.

"How do you do it Brooke?"

"I don't know." Brooke shrugged. "I guess I just realized that everyone, including them, makes mistakes; even big ones like that. I've been guilty myself. Hell, I'll admit it. I am the queen of mistakes. It all came down to one decision for me. I decided I'd rather have Lucas and Peyton in my life than not have them in my life." she gazed sadly at the fireplace. "It was a pretty lonely time in my life." Brooke's eyes were filled of sorrow as she finally looked at Nathan.

"I just don't think I can ever forgive him," he revealed.

"These things take time. It will all work out. You'll see. I thought I would never speak to either Lucas or Peyton again. Now look at all of us. Peyton and I are best friends again, and Lucas and I were able to salvage a friendship." Nathan nodded. "But there's one thing I will always remember." She smiled in thought. "Actually, it something Karen told me after everything happened." She looked into Nathan's imploring eyes. "You can forgive, but you should never forget." Nathan's blue gaze penetrated her hazels, and he felt for the first time that everything really was going to be fine. He flashed his Scott smile in her direction.

"Have you always been this optimistic?"

"Only on Saturdays," she grinned back.

"So, you forgive me then?" he asked hopefully as he stretched his leg.

"Of course. How could I not? After that fancy little speech?" Nathan sighed in relief. Brooke's voice softened in shame as she continued speaking. "I just hope you can forgive me for saying all those things about your marriage. It's none of my business. I wasn't there I didn't know what happened."

"No, you're right. Haley and I were the cause of our annulment. Lucas had nothing to do with it. I shouldn't blame anyone other than myself." Brooke frowned and instinctively reached for Nathan's hand, sending unforeseen shivers down his arm as he looked up into her comforting eyes. At that moment, a connection had been made between himself and this amazing girl. It was an unexpected feeling to be on the same level as Brooke Davis. He never thought of her other than the hot, arrogant, shop-aholic best friend of his ex. He never really gave her much thought, but he had been clearly wrong about her. Nathan smiled to himself as he recalled a conversation he had had with Lucas regarding Brooke. Nathan suspected Lucas had unrequited feelings for another, but when Lucas revealed that other person was Brooke, Nathan almost laughed.

"Why would you waste your time with her?" Nathan rolled his eyes as he shot a basket and watched it go through the net with ease. Lucas rebounded and dribbled the ball against the pavement of the river court and passed it to Nathan. "She's so..." Nathan shot the ball again, "well...Brooke."

"Hey, first off, you've got it wrong about her," Lucas said as he and Nathan walked to one of the benches to sit down. They both sat with their backs bent to support themselves for there was no back to the bench. "Most people are wrong about Brooke," Lucas sighed dreamily. "She's really great, you know."

"Really? This is the same girl who tormented Haley freshmen year." Nathan added. Lucas interrupted Nathan's Brooke bashing.

"_Used to"_ being the key words here. She's not like that anymore, Nate. She's different. She's probably got the biggest heart of anyone I know." Nathan shook his head at disbelief as he heard Lucas speak of Brooke's generosity.

"Wait a minute. Brooke has a heart?" Lucas nodded, and Nathan, to this day, could not forget the look of love and adoration his older brother's blue eyes revealed. Nathan's were almost the exact replica Lucas'. "Whatever you say, dude. C'mon, let's go shot some more," Nathan added, attempting to change the subject. Lucas grinned as the two boys continued to shoot baskets for the rest of that sunny afternoon at the river court.

Nathan looked backed at Brooke with guilt as he wondered if she saw Lucas when she looked at him as deeply as she was looking at him now. The guilt overcame him as he thought of all the nasty things he had said about her over the years. Now he knew how false these words really were. As Nathan gazed at Brook's worrisome expression, he realized with amazement that Lucas had been right all along. Brooke did have an incredible heart.

"Yeah, but I'm really sorry." She emphasized the word sorry and released her grasp of Nathan's hand, who was somewhat disappointed that she had let go of him so soon.

"I forgive you." Relief washed over her face, and she smiled widely in contentment.

"Good then. I forgive you. We're even. Tell you what. Let's make a deal." Suddenly Brooke was her former happy, peppy self, and Nathan couldn't believe how quickly she could switch gears. He smiled at her as he listened. "I promise to never mention a former wife of yours, and you promise to never mention a former boyfriend of mine." Broke stuck out her tiny hand and Nathan and shook upon the mutual agreement.

"Thou shall not be named," he added. Brooke nodded.

"Exactly."

"So, uh, were you planning on scrubbing me to death or something?"

"Huh?" Brooke looked at Nathan in confusion. Nathan pointed to the toilet brush that Brooke had dropped on the floor. Brooke cheeks reddened.

"Oh, that? Yeah, well that was my last minute method of attack for you. You know, I thought you were a burglar. Oh, and did I mention the plan was last minute?"

"Yeah, but a toilet brush?" Nathan laughed

"Hey, let's make another deal. You don't make fun of my choice of weapon, and I won't ridicule your car anymore. Should we shake on it?"

"Maybe we should write out a list," Nathan suggested as the two burst out in a eruption of laughter.

And that was how the evening concluded with bits of laughter, a couple of chick-flicks of Nathan's dismay, an order of pizza, and two friends enjoying one another's company.


	9. Chapter 9

_Hey guys! I'm back with a new installment. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's definitely all about Brooke and Nathan. As I have said many times before, I appreciate all of your reviews, and I always look forward to reading them. Read and review this, and I will have a new chapter VERY SOON. Love all reviewers. I know a lot of you love brathan and brucas, so we will just have to see what happens. I am a fan of both, so it is up in the air right now. It's all gonna be so DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA. Two brothers fighting over the same woman! C'mon guys, how hot is that?_

_Chapter 9 _

Popcorn kernels lay scattered across the blue living room carpet of the Davis residence. All that remained of the large order of pizza was three slices that lay upon the grease-smeared Dominos box. The television was abandoned to reveal Big Bird teaching the local kids of the neighborhood the alphabet as the vivacious theme of Sesame Street played against the background. "Sunny days, chasing the clouds away," drifted throughout the air.

A form lay sprawled atop the plush texture of the couch. His chest rose and fell with his calm breath. A mat of brown hair concealed his face as he slept deeply. Directly to the right of his sleeping form, lay Brooke Davis lounging on the recliner. Her hair sat upon her head in a messy bun while lose hairs framed her lovely face. Her mouth remained open as little breaths escaped her flaring nostrils. Some would mistake her current respiration as snoring. Unbeknownst to her, she was affected by the horrendous predicament of a bad case of nasal congestion. Her face twitched as the rising sun's rays hit her formerly tranquil face, and she groaned as she reluctantly opened one eye to reveal an image of Big Bird dancing in the streets. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings. Brooke yawned in satisfaction as she realized she had slept a full night compensating for the lack of sleep the night before last. She felt her limbs spring to life as she stretched out her body lazily against the recliner. As she glanced over at the sleeping form on the sofa, she smiled at the lump that rolled over and groaned between snores.

All had been resolved the night before as she and Nathan resolved their differences with one another. She felt a sense of relief. Now she and Nathan could actually converse civilly with no more snide remarks. Best of all, they could actually become friends. And converse they did the prior night. After Brooke and Nathan forgave and forgot, Brooke insisted on ordering pizza and watching some movies. It was Brooke's method of apologizing and in her nature to be generous. That is, except when it pertained to the choice of movies. She had told a relenting Nathan that she could pick the movies since she ordered the pizza. The choices were obvious in Brook's eager eyes as she flaunted her collection of romantic comedies and drama. All Nathan could resort to was a roll of the eyes and a reluctant nod. After all, he was used to that sort of thing. He had been married to Haley hadn't he? He clearly remembered the traditional Friday nights at his Tree Hill apartment. As always, Haley chose the movie and they dined in, usually partaking in Haley's favorite dish, macaroni and cheese, which she enthusiastically declared to be, "the food of the Gods!". First on the list was the tragic story of a beautiful woman beleaguered with cancer who falls in love with the pompous playboy. In the end, the gigolo falls for her just in time for her to ultimately die. Nathan sat through _Autumn in New York _attempting to look interested in the predictable storyline when in reality he was really ogling over how hot Winona Ryder was. Brooke would glance over in Nathan's direction every now and then to determine if the movie had piqued his interest, and she took delight in the fact that it did. Well, at least the hot chick piqued Nathan's interest.

Next up on the list was _Love and Basketball_. The story was about a couple who fall in love through basketball. This time Nathan's interest was piqued as he watched the amazing basketball sequences featuring Sanaa Lathan in awe. Who knew a hot chick could play basketball so well? Although Nathan did have a genuine interest in the movie centered around his favorite sport, he still couldn't accept that beneath the basketball storyline, was a love story. Regardless of his cynical attitude, Nathan enjoyed the movie immensely. Last on the list was _French Kiss_ starring the insanely adorable Meg Ryan. Nathan did not have a chance to enjoy Kevin Kline's fake French accent or Meg Ryan's intense fear of flying, because Brooke had the sudden urge to jabber. In fact, the girl would not keep her mouth shut throughout all three movies! By the end of the night, Nathan discovered it was nearly impossible to watch an entire movie without one of the infamous Brooke comments.

"If I were a guy, then I would totally want to date someone like Meg Ryan. Isn't she cute?" Brooke looked over at Nathan who was laying on his side against the sofa, while she popped a kernel of popcorn into her mouth. Nathan shrugged as he continued watching the movie.

"I don't know. I guess." He took a bite of pepperoni pizza.

"C'mon, Nathan. You're a guy right?" Nathan laughed.

"Last time I checked."

"Well," Brooke attempted to her best Nathan voice, "_I guess" _isn't an honest answer. "She either is or she isn't." She leaned back into the recliner in a curious manner as she looked at the screen and then back to Nathan. Nathan ignored her as he watched Meg Ryan cleaning the indents of her computer keyboard with a q-tip. Brooke sighed as she noticed Nathan's attempts to ignore her. "It's not a difficult question to answer. All I'm saying is that every guy has an opinion on whether a girl is attractive. Just like," Brooke pointed to herself, "_moi_ finds certain males attractive. I'm just curious. Do you," Brooke gestured to Meg Ryan on the screen, "think that Meg Ryan is attractive."

Nathan rolled his eyes and finally looked at Brooke. "As a matter of fact, I don't," he replied as he looked back at the screen. Brooke smirked thoughtfully, and Nathan caught a glimpse of those addictive Davis dimples out of the corner of his left eye. Brooke returned her attention to the screen as she pondered silently. Satisfied, Nathan continued to eat his pizza and to watch to the romantic comedy in time to discover Meg Ryan's fiance had left her for another women. Guess we both have something in common, Nathan thought to himself. Several moments had passed without a comment from her, and Nathan began to wonder what was occurring in that busy mind of her's. Before he even began to contemplate the woman that was Brooke Davis, his thoughts were interrupted by another.

"Why don't you think she's attractive?" She glanced over at Nathan in interest and arched an eyebrow.

"I don't know Brooke. Why can't we just watch the damn movie without the inserted commentary from the local peanut gallery?" Nathan intolerantly glared at Brooke from beneath his crystal, blue eyes as his temperature rose. Brooke's eyes grew wide with surprise.

"REAR!" Brooke attempted to hiss in Nathan's direction by using her hands to portray claws, much like a cat would do. Nathan held his hands up in defense. "Remind me to never piss you off." She rolled her eyes in annoyance and stared at the television.

"Sorry. It's just I thought we were trying to watch a movie. Was I wrong?"

"No, sorry. I'll try to keep my thoughts to myself." Nathan nodded his head.

"Good," he replied.

Throughout the next thirty minutes of the film, Nathan gazed over in Brooke's direction. She had crossed her arms over her chest and her mouth was depicted in a full pout. Her eyes appeared to be disinterested in the film, as she was concentrating her intense stare at the painting above the television set. Nathan sighed to himself. Dammit, I give up, he declared to himself as he looked over at Brooke, whose interest still seemed to be on the Thomas Kinkade painting.

"It's not that I don't find her attractive; it's just that she isn't my type. I like girls with a little more substance." Brooke turned her attention away from the painting and looked in Nathan's direction as if she was surprised that he had spoken. Her eyes were inquisitive as she responded.

"What do you mean _substance_?" Nathan pondered her question as he attempted to explain his point of view.

"I mean that I like girls with curves. I like girls that actually look like they eat something."

"Oh, you mean you like girls with boobs and a butt?" she asked. Nathan nodded his head in agreement.

"Exactly. I'm not a big fan of stick figures. I like curves, or as Mike would say, "a little junk in the trunk." Brooke giggled.

"So you like 'em big then, like Rosie O'Donnel big?" she joked. Nathan's face turned tomato-red in response.

"You know what I mean. I'm not interested in girls that don't take care of themselves. Besides, don't be so hard on Rosie. She's hot." Brooke quickly glanced at Nathan in bewilderment. Nathan chuckled at Brooke's reaction.

"You're kidding right?" Nathan laughed again.

"Yeah." Both of them burst out laughing and turned their attention back to the movie to watch Kevin Kline dancing with Meg Ryan in their hotel room.

"So what about you?" Nathan interrupted as he looked over at Brooke.

"What about me?"

"What do you find attractive in a guy?" he implored. Brooke took his question in consideration.

"I don't know. I guess he has to be nice. He should also care about me. I guess looks don't matter all that much to me," she concluded. Brooke heard Nathan laughed at she looked at him in shock. "What's so funny?"

"You just described Mouth!" Brooke wrinkled her forehead as she thought about Nathan's revelation.

"Nice observation there! What you said is true. Mouth is a nice guy. And I think that he cares about me. It's just," she paused, "it's just that he's..." Brooke couldn't seem to locate an answer as she spoke.

"He's what?" Nathan asked.

"Well, he's _Mouth._ Don't get me wrong. He's a great guy. It's just there's none of that spark you know."

"Spark?"

"Yeah, you know, chemistry." Brooke turned her body in Nathan's direction as she spoke. It was as if she were opening up to him little by little.

"Yeah, Mouth's cool. But let's be honest, a guy like Mouth will never get a girl like you." _Wait a minute! What did I just say to her? Nathan asked himself. A girl like her? _Immediately, he regretted what he had previously said as he noticed Brooke's facial expressions shift to amusement.

"What are you trying to say, Nathan?" she asked suspiciously. Nathan cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Um, you know. Real life is like a John Hughes movie. In this case, you'd be Molly Ringwald." Nathan's mind panicked as he quickly attempted to search for an excuse to his "a girl like you" speech, when in reality he did not even have an answer to Brooke's question. How could he answer her question when he had no knowledge of why he had said it in the first place. He continued, albeit gracelessly. "Mouth would be Ducky, your official fan base. Let's face it. The nerd never got the girl. Ducky never got the girl. Therefore, the girl is unattainable in Mouth's eyes. You are unattainable to guys like him."

"Hey, I can be attainable!" Nathan looked at Brooke, and she noticed his serious expression. "Okay, maybe you're right. Maybe Mouth will never get me, but that doesn't mean he won't find some gorgeous girl and get married someday. That person is just not gonna be me. Believe me. I have tried to be attainable for Mouth. I just can't be that girl."

"Do you honestly believe that looks don't matter?" Nathan asked her seriously.

"In some cases it doesn't. I guess what I said earlier wasn't the whole truth," she said as she looked at Nathan. "I think that looks are apart of the initial attraction. That's what draws me to someone. You know, the look in his eyes when he looks at me, or the way he walks, or even how he talks. But then you really get to know that person, and you fall in love with not whom they look like on the outside, but who they are on the inside." Her eyes were glazed as she spoke, and Nathan looked into them as she spoke. Her hazels melted into the pigment of his blue eyes, and his heartbeat did an unexpected flip-flop as she continued. "So, yeah. I guess looks can be a part of attraction in that way, but that doesn't take the cake when it comes to love." Her voice quivered as she looked at the intrigue on Nathan's handsome face. Instinctively, she turned her attention back to the ending of _French Kiss._ Nathan did the same as the tension in the room slowly subsided.

The ending was predictable as Nathan had foreseen. The guy gets the girl and vice-versa. Nathan glanced at Brooke and saw a tear escape from her eyes as she watched the credits and a French song provided background for the conclusion.

"Are you crying?"

Brooke immediately turned her head in Nathan's opposite direction in embarrassment.

"Maybe a little." She swiftly wiped her tears and looked over at Nathan. "I know it sounds dumb, but I always cry at happy endings," she admitted abashedly. Nathan smiled. _Typical. She was a girl, wasn't she, Nathan thought to himself. _

"No it's not stupid," Brooke looked at Nathan appreciatively and peeled herself away from the seat as she discarded the DVD. Nathan's eyes followed her movements. "Although, I'd hate to see your reaction to a tragic ending," he added.

"So, what do you want to watch next?" Brooke stood in the television's light as she turned toward Nathan. She looked adorable in her over-sized pajamas and pink slippers as he took in her appearance. Her face was glistened with smeared tears and her hair was standing in each direction from the loose bun Brooke had left on top of her head. She looked beautiful, and she was unaware of her beauty at that moment in time. He found that utterably irresistible. Nathan pushed thoughts of his attraction out of his head as he answered Brooke.

"Wait a minute. You're asking me what movie I want to watch? Who are you, and what did you do with Brooke Davis?" he gasped.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. I'm just trying to be nice. Better hurry before the offer no longer exists," she teased. Nathan towered over Brooke as he stood as she nearly stumbled backwards at the realization of his height.

"What ya got?"

"I don't know." She pointed at the bottom of shelf which contained numerous DVDs. "You can look at my dad's collection of machismo-filled action while I go to the bathroom." Nathan grinned as he watched Brooke depart in her fuzzy slippers. He shook his head as he managed to locate a movie worth watching. As Brooke entered the room with an armload of blankets, Nathan had popped in the DVD and had flung himself into a comfortable position on the sofa. Brooke approached Nathan's figure from behind and dropped two blankets onto his head. He was startled as he sat upright. She giggled.

"That's for comparing me to Molly Ringwald earlier," she huffed as she settled into her chair and Nathan glanced at her in amusement.

"Hey, it was just an observation."

"Oh please! Molly Ringwald's hair looked like a tractor ran over it. And did you see her clothes. Pink and brown so don't complement one another. She's so..."

"Eighties?" he interrupted Brooke looked over at Nathan irritably.

"What movie did you pick?" she asked as she snuggled under her covers. Nathan laid on his left side and pulled the blankets over his body.

"It's a surprise, he taunted.

"I'm sure it is," she added dryly as she punched the play button the remote. A few minutes later, Brooke discovered Nathan had chosen _Die Hard _as his ultimate pick. Nathan turned his head from his position on the couch and took glee in Brooke's disappointed reaction.

"Well, at least Bruce Willis has his shirt off in this movie," she stated with a hint of optimism in her raspy voice. Nathan smiled.

An hour into the movie, a sleepiness seemed to overcome the pair, as they drifted in and out of images of Bruce Willis wearing a shirt and lacking a shirt. Brooke fell asleep to little images of naked Bruce Willis' dancing around her head, and Nathan pretended not to notice how attractive she was, as he had noticed she had fallen asleep before him. He sighed in resentment and attempted to finish the film, but he submitted to sleep as well. And this is how the pair were left until Brooke had awakened from her full night's rest. Her mind had drifted back to the night before, and she had replayed the night's occurrences in her head like a movie she had recently watched. That is, until she noticed the time on grandfather clock! It was 9:00 a.m. on a Sunday, and her parents were due at home any moment!

She realized this with trepidation. She looked back over at Nathan's sleeping figure in alarm as she literally propelled herself out of her recliner. How would this situation look to her parents if they were to come home and discover their daughter had allowed a boy to sleep over? Let's just say, the future would no longer be bright for herself. Talk about an end to shopping trips, her unlimited access to her parents' credit cards, and that luxurious membership to the health spa. Brooke cursed herself as she nearly tripped on her fuzzy slippers as she approached him. His snores were feint and his face masked by the muscular arm flung over his face. Cautiously, Brooke patted Nathan's stomach. She blushed slightly as she unintentionally felt his surface of his rock-hard abs.

"Nathan, wake up," she whispered. As he slowly opened his eyes, he took in her large, hazel eyes, full lips, brown locks, and luminous skin. _I must be dreaming, _he thought to himself. _She's so beautiful. _He felt alive in his dream as he touched the immaculate face of the enchantress. The image instantly pulled back in distress as Nathan's environment became genuine. He blink several times and sat up as he noticed Brooke standing over him. She face looked bothered, but he didn't notice. After all, he believed he had dreamed of her. He did not realize that he had actually caressed Brooke's face as she had attempted to wake him up. Brooke was initially startled at his actions, but ignored her feelings as she roused him out of his slumber.

"What's wrong, Brooke?" he asked as concern filled his eyes.

"You need to go. My parents are supposed to be here any minute!"

"What? I thought they were never here?" Brooke's figure rushed around the living room as she quickly grabbed the pizza box and started picking up the kernels of popcorn scattered amongst the floor. Still in a daze, Nathan grabbed his shoes and hastily put them on his bare feet. Brooke was in the process of retrieving the empty cans of soda when he finally tied his laces.

"Yeah, well, today they decided they would conveniently come home. Can you grab those blankets and put them in the hall closet?" she asked as she rushed into the kitchen to dispose of last night's meal. Nathan nodded his head as he collected the blanket and stuffed them into the hall closet, which contained various board games and such.

"Oh, my God, Nathan there here!" Brooke's voice rang from the kitchen Nathan closed the hall closet. He rushed to the kitchen in response.

"What? How do you know?" Brooke pushed him out of the kitchen and down the hall as she breathlessly exclaimed.

"I heard their car pull into the drive way! You have to hide!"

"Okay, but where?"

"I don't know where!" Brooke screeched in dread. Nathan stopped Brooke's destructive path in the middle of the hallway and gently grasped Brooke's tiny shoulders as he looked her in the eyes. "Brooke, you need to calm down. Why don't you just tell them I came by to visit this morning.?" Brooke rolled her eyes at Nathan's naivety.

"Obviously, you don't know my parents. If they find out that I have a boy here, they're gonna kill me!" Her eyes reeked with panic at Nathan's attempt to calm her.

"Okay, well, where would your parents never look?" Nathan still had his hands on Brooke's shoulders.

"Umm, the bedroom! Yeah, they would never look in my bedroom because they know it is totally off limits!" she cried as if she had made the most amazing discovery.

"Your bedroom it is then," he declared as Brooke pushed him into her boudoir. "Who, Brooke. I've always known you wanted me, but isn't this a bit of a rush?" he joked. Brooke raised her eyebrows before she closed her door.

"In your dreams." Nathan smiled. _If only she knew, _he thought to himself. "Be quiet, and don't touch anything!" she warned as she closed the door. And that was it. Brooke had abandoned him to her bedroom. It was a place full of all her hopes and dreams, and now he wall all alone in that world. He smiled mischievously as he sat on top of Brooke's purple comforter and took in all the sights of her femininity. Yep, all Brooke had to do was convince her parents that she was alone in the house, and all he had to do was wait in her personal space. This was going to be a very long morning.


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey guys. I hope none of you are mad at me. It has been awhile since I last updated, but I had a suddent urge to update today, what with OTH's hiatus until next week. I have been in need of some OTH. Anyways, here's another chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the reviews. I appreciate them all. Please continue to read and review and let me know what you guys think. I write for you guys! lol_

Chapter 10

The doorknob slowly turned as Brooke tensed with anticipation at the arrival of her parents. She gritted her teeth at the prospect of her folks discovering a boy in her room. "Although, Nathan definitely is not a boy. Yep that boy is all man," Brooke thought silently to herself. She re-directed her short attention span to the doorknob as the oak door opened slightly to reveal a tanned ankle which gracefully stepped into the living room. Her slim calves revealed long and limber legs that were halfway concealed by a flowing sun dress covered in pineapples. The top of the sun dress complemented her smooth shoulders as the material clung to every curve of her mother's lanky silohuete. She removed her sunglasses to display her luminious hazels that were contained on her ovular face. Atop her brown locks sat the wide brim of her mother's favorite straw hat. A pink ribbon was fastened around the base of the hat, and the two ends of the ribbon met to create a lovely bow at the front. The hat did not resemble that of a farmer's but that of a societal woman attending an elegant function. As Brooke beheld her mother, she realized she was looking at a taller version of herself. She remembered how she had gotten many comments from her friends at school about how she was an exact replica of her mother; well what little of her friends saw ofabsent mother.Brooke and her mother shared the same hazel eyes, same face shape, and same color of brown and reddish hair. In fact, the only differentiation between the two was her mother stood at the amazonian height of six feet, while she herself barely measured 5'3''. Not to mention, her mother never was blessed with Brooke's dimples. Her mother used to say Brooke's dimples were God's gift to her. Her mother flashedthe trademark million dollar Davis smile in no particualr direction, a trait Brooke had also managed to inherit.

"Hey, honey." Elizabeth Davis attempted to smile warmly in Brooke's direction, as she stood awkardly in front of the open door. Brooke grinned as her mother took in her daughter's appearance. Her mother raised her eyebrows, and she snarled in slight revulsion. "Ugh, honey, why are you wearing _that_?" Her mother gestured to Brooke's oversized pajamas, and before Brooke could respond, she pointed to her hair. "And why didn't you brush your hair. You know, your usually so good about those kind of things." Brooke looked down at her pajamas and attempted to roll her eyes out of her mother's eye view.

"Mom, it's 9 in the morning. I just got up. Who did you expect me to look like..." She snapped her fingers as she struggled to locate a glamours answer. "you..?" she finished.

Her mother looked almost taken aback at Brooke's response, but brushed off the comment as she realized the early hour. "Of course not, honey." She placed her white Prada handbag that was the size of a suitcase onto the tile floor. "Honey, have you lost weight becauase last time I saw you you were getting chubby again."

Brooke scoffed. "I wasn't chubby. I had only gained 5 pounds, which I recently lost." Her mother observed Brooke's tiny physique beneath her flannel pajamas.

"Okay, well maybe chubby isn't the right word."

"Well, the way you desribe me, you make me sound like I am as big as Shamu."

"Who honey?" she asked as she no longer had taken any interest in the conversation due to her sudden interest in fiddling with her house keys. Brooke's agitation level increased as she attempted to converse with her mother. Brooke and Elizabeth may have looked alike, but her mother and her were as different as night and day. Her mother was arrogant, self-centered, and snobbish; all the traits Brooke had once possessed before she met Lucas. It was Lucas who had inadvertenly revealed her to her faults, and she quickly worked to repair them. Sure, she could be catty when it pertained to certain situations and she still had a temper, which she had learned to tame. But, she was no longer like her mother. In fact, she was no longer like her former self. The thought of Lucas' serene nature calmed her as she spoke to her mother.

"Shamu is a whale, mother."

"Oh, right." Her mother finally stopped fiddling with her keys and looked back up at her daughter. "Come give mommy a hug, dear." She held up her arms as an invitation for Brooke to initiate the hug. Brooke sighed as she was enveloped in her mother's frail arms. The hug was cold and distant, and her mother's hands felt clammy as she patted Brooke's cheek. She breathed a sigh of relief when her mother broke the hug and walked toward the kitchen. Brooke looked outside as the sun blinded her view of the driveway.

"Where's daddy?" Brooke called out to her mother.

"What?"

Brooke rolled her eyes and followed her mother's voice into the kitchen. Her mother was attempting to locate an object in one of the drawers as Brooke looked on.

"I asked where daddy was."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. Maybe next time you have a question for me, you shouldn't yell. For godsakes, we're not primitive animals. We don't need to yell to hear one another," her mother slammed the drawer in distress.

"What are you looking for?" Brooke asked.

"I'm looking for my lighter. Goodness know, I have been without a cigarette for hours now. You're father won't allow me to smoke in the car. He says it's something about leather, flames, and all that jazz." She shrugged as if the prospect of her father's $50,000 BMW being lit on fire was no big deal. "I told him that's why we have insurance. But you know your father, he never listens to me." She sounded irritated as she continued to digging through the drawers. Brooke nodded in mock understading.

So, her parents weren't getting along. What else was new? At least, they weren't throwing furniture at one another. "We'll see how long that lasts," she thought miserably to herself. It was custom for her parents to fight. In fact, if they weren't fighting,something was wrong.Throughout Brooke's childhood, her mother had been accused of having various affairs, provoking the Davis family into debt by overspending, and of being as her father put it last April, "the biggest mistake of my life." She remembered one occasion on particular the year before. Brooke was upstairs in her room attempting to not fall asleep as she did her late homework assignment, when her father arrived home from work. Well, Brooke fell asleep to no avail, only to be woken up at the sound of glass being thrown against a wall. She tiptoed down the hall and managed to catch a minute of conversation, or as she called it: arguments, between her parents. Whatever they had been arguing about, Brooke could never remember her father looking so angry. She could still remember every aspect of his appearance that night. His normally handsome face was contorted into such anangry look, that he was barely recognizable to her. His mother was cowered in a corner, as her father stood before her. Brooke saw the shattered pieces of one of her mother's many vases scattered on the ground at her mother's feet. The memories of that night seemed to fade away as Brooke struggled to push the incident out of her mind. All she could remember was what her father said to her mother in such an anguished voice; the same voice that managed to haunt Brooke's dreams since that night. "You were the biggest mistake of my life." His voice choked with tears as he spoke. "The only reason I don't regret ever being with you is becasue I have my daughter. Brooke is the only reason I stay in this marriage." These words of sorrow fell upon Brooke's heart, and she could no longer hear anymore for her heart could not take it. So, she returned to her room. To this day, Brooke would never forget that moment. Brooke was brought back to reality as she heard her mother rambling on about her father as she attempted to locate her lighter.

"So, where is daddy?" Brooke asked hopefully. Elizabeth paused her activity in order to look up at her daughter.

"He's at work. He had a meeting with his clients, so he just dropped me off here."

"But he just got home." Brooke pouted in disappointment.

"I know, honey. How many times have I told you, somebody..."

Brooke nodded her head and repeated her mother's words. It was the exact same answer her mother gave everytime Brooke pointed out her father's absence. "Somebody's gotta pay for this nice life that we live."

"Anyways, I was thinking you and I..." Elizabeth's hands closed over the blue lighter in the cabinet above the fridge as she located it. "I found it!" Her mother yelped in excitement as she rushed into the living room to retrieve her cigarettes from her Prada bag. Her mother put the filter to her lips and lit the end. Her first puff of smoke billowed through her mother's flared nostril as she breathed in her cancer stick. Brooke scrunched her face in disgust as she waved the smoke away from her direction.

"You were thinking?" Brooke reminded Elizabeth of her previous thoughts. Her mother opened her eyes.

"Oh, yes. What about you and I go down to the tanning booth together? I am starting to look a little pasty." Her mother held up her arms in revulsion. Brooke laughed in amusment.

"Mom, you look like a Mexican," she observed.

"Oh, please don't compare me to those filthy mongrels, Brookie dear."

"I'm just saying, you look great." And it was true. Her mother did look great. Her mother always looked great. Looking great to her mother was a job in itself. While Brooke may have worked a prime-time gig at looking great, her mother was working full-time. Elizabeth looked at Brooke almost adoringly.

"Thank you, sweetie. So, how about it?" She took another drag of the cigarette as she felt the smooth nicotine enter and exit her damaged lungs. Brooke was about to accept her mother's invitation when an alarm shot off in her head. Nathan. Nathan was still in her room! And who knew what he was doing. Maybe, he was going through her panty drawer or smelling all of her perfume like some sychophantic stalker. Whatever Nathan was doing in her room, one thing was clear: she had to get rid of her mother.

* * *

Nathan sighed as he beheld the maroon's walls of Brooke Davis' room. It looked like someone had thrown up purple. He felt like was being swallowed alive by the purple people eater. A framed picture of pink pansies hung above her queen-sized bed. The rest of the walls were adorned with a picture of the Eiffel Tower, and an obnoxious poster of a half-naked Colin Farell clad in a pair of Lee's and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Nathan rolled his eyes at Brooke's poster as he approached Brooke's mirror and took in his own appearance. Nathan pulled up his t-shirt to reveal a set of washboard abs and sculpted pectorals. He glanced back over at Colin's equally muscular torso and sneered. He flexed his stomach as he examined it in the mirror and quickly looked back at Colin, comparing himself. It was as if he were competing for a place on Brooke's wall. Realizing he would never end up on Brooke's wall, he pulled his shirt back down in defeat. What was he doing? He was comparing himself to Colin Farell for goodness sakes! 

Shaking his head absentmindedly, he sat on Brooke's cushioned stool. In front of him was Brooke's vanity set. On the table sat various lipsticks, powders, and mascaras. Her nailpolishes ranged from every color on the scale, from black to white, including some colors Nathan had never seen before. What was with all the makeup anyways? Why would a woman as beautiful as Brooke want to hide her innate beauty by piling all this garbage onto her face. Makeup wasn't meant to make women look attractive. Makeup was meant to hide a woman's true beauty. And true beauty Brooke did have. It was the kind of beauty to make a man go week in the knees and numb in the pants simultaneously. Nathan felt the bulge in his pants grow as he thought about her, but then it quickly receded when he thought about the reprecussions of his thoughts. "What would she think about me if she knew I was having these thoughts," he thought to himself. "She would probably think I was a pervert." But it wasn't just about his sexual attraction towards Brooke that drew him to her. There was something else about that girl that drove him crazy; something that he couldn't pinpoint just yet. "But it's wrong to think like this," Nathan convinced himself, as he promised he would never think of Brooke in that way again. From here on out, he and Brooke would just remain friends. Just good friends.

Pushing the thought of Brooke out of his mind, Nathan looked into the mirror and noticed the mirror's borders contained different pictures of Brooke with her friends. He smiled at a picture of Peyton, Brooke, and Jake's daughter, Jenny. Nathan peeled the picture off the mirror and flipped the picture over to observe the date. The picture was taken the same day that Nathan and Lucas had challenged one another to a basketball game at the River Court. Lucas had agreed to play Nathan in order to win a spot on the Ravens basketball team. Unfortuanately, Nathan lost in an embarrassing display of Lucas' innate talent. Although, Nathan would never admit it to Lucas, he was partly relieved to have him join the team because he had managed to make up for the rest of the team's slack. Lucas was an excellent player. It's just that Nathan would never mention that to his face. Nathan looked at Brooke in the picture as a genunie smile was planted on her face. It was a picture of happier times. Maybe, at that time she was happier due to the fact that she had been dating Lucas. He smiled sadly as he replaced Brooke's picture and noticed another picture. This picture was one of Brooke and Lucas. Lucas had his arm around Brooke and the two were looking into the camera with grins plastered on their faces. Nathan cursed himself as he felt a twinge of jealousy at the sight of the picture with Lucas and Brooke. He shook his head and laughed. He was doing it again! Why couldn't he stop thinking of her? He had no right to her. It's not like she had even expressed interest in him. He and Brooke were just friends. He just had to keep reminding himself of that

Nathan soon found himself upon Brooke's bed as he lay sprawled on his back. The covers smelt of fresh vanilla and lavender and instantly reminded him of Brooke. He breathed in her scent and yawned as he rolled over onto his side. His hand supported his head, as he cradled it in his left arm and brought his right arm around. As his right hand touched the bed, it brushed an object. Nathan picked up the letter that had breifly touched his hand, and noticed Lucas' address on the front of the envelope in the curvy script of Brooke's feminine handwriting. It was an unsent letter from Brooke to Lucas. Nathan examined the envelope and noticed that Brooke had not completely sealed the envelope, meaning that the letter could be opened and then resealed. He arched an eyebrow at his discovery, and he pondered the contents of the letter. He knew he would be overstepping his boundaries if he were to read the letter, but how would Brooke ever find out? He threw the letter down upon the bed and groaned in frusteration as he peered at the enveloped secrets within. He couldn't do that to Brooke. Well, he could, but he wouldn't. For several minutes, he stared at the envelope as if it was his arch rival. Reluctantly, he picked up the envelope and retrieved the letter from inside as curiosity overcame him and read Brooke's words to Lucas.

As Nathan finished, he realized he had had more questions after he finished reading the letter than before he read it. What exactly did Lucas tell Brooke before she left for the summer? Why did Brooke call herself the girl behind the red door? He could always ask Brooke, but if he did, then she would know he went behind her back to read her private letter to Lucas. So, that wasn't an option. Nathan read the letter over again and winced as she described Lucas' scent of aftershave and mountains. He laughed. Who in the hell smells like aftershave and mountains? Only pansy-ass mamma boys like Lucas. He grinned in satisifaction as his thoughts insulted Lucas. He felt a sense of relief as he noticed that Brooke had not mentioned anything about her having feelings for Lucas. Yeah, he was a little irritated by the 'love always' conclusion of the letter, but that was pretty standard for friends. Hell, even his mother had written him cards during holdays ending in 'love always'. It was standard stuff. "But where are the other letters?" Nathan asked himself. In the letter Brooke had mentioned she had written Lucas everyday, but she never sent the letters. With a sudden urge to read the rest of Brooke's personal thoughts and learn more about this intriguing woman, Nathan put the letter back into its envelope and re-sealed it as he placed it back on the bed. "Okay, so I'm not a basketball this time. So, if I were a letter, where would I be?" he asked himself. Nathan kneeled as he felt the surface beneath Brooke's bed, and his fingers became curled in a mass of something as the door to Brooke's room opened unexpectedly. Before he knew it, he and Brooke were face to face, only except his hand still remained underneath Brooke's bed. She raised her eyebrow at Nathan's position on the floor with his hand beneath her bed as a funny look crossed her face.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Nathan's eyes widened in suprise at Brooke's arrival as he struggled to untangle his hand from the object beneath her bed. He looked up at Brooke nervously as he searched for the appropriate words to describe his ridiculous position on the floor.

"I, uh..." he paused, "dropped my..." Finally he managed to untangle most of his arm from the object beneath Brooke's bed as he managed to retrieve his arm from its dwellings. Nathan smiled up awkwardly at Brooke as she looked at Nathan in horror. Flabbergasted, Nathan looked at his arm that he had recently removed from underneath her bed and noticed with alarm that a red, lacy bra had somehow attatched itself to his sleeve! He blushed a color almost as red as the bra and looked back up at Brooke with humiliated eyes. Nathan opened his mouth to complete his earlier excuse for being under her bed and said, " I dropped my...bra." Brooke gave Nathan an expression she usually gave half-wits like Tim, one of pity, as Nathan attempted to remove the brassiere from his sleeve. Brooke folded her arms across her stomach while she waited for him to unhook her bra. She sighed as Nathan nervously glanced between his attempts of removal and Brooke's intent glare.

"Oh, give me that." Brooke grabbed Nathan's arm and effortlessly removed the bra with the skillfull hands of a seamstress. Nathan looked at her in amazement. She noticed him staring in awe at her achievement "I can see you have virtually no skill at removing bras from the heaving chests of girls, do you?" Nathan blushed as he removed himself from the floor and sat on Brooke's bed. "Frankly, I'm a little suprised. You know, with everything that Peyton said about you." She walked over to her drawer and placed the bra in her drawer. Nathan's interest piqued.

"Oh, yeah. Well, what did Peyton say about me exactly?" He scooted towards the end of Brooke's bed as she stood in the middle of the room and placed her hands on her hips.

"Sorry, can't tell you that. You know, girl talk," Brooke smiled in satisfaction as Nathan's face fell.

"Well, then why would you mention it? Are you trying to torture me?" Brooke laughed.

"Wow, Scott! You're _quick_," she mocked amazement. Nathan nodded his head, realizing she wasn't ever gonna tell him what Peyton said. "But if you ever need help in the 'removing bras' department, I could be of some assistance." Nathan's ears perked.

"Really?"

"That would be a big, fat NO."

"Hey, I had to give it a shot, right?" Nathan asked as Brooke detected hint of disappointment in his voice.

"So, what were you doing under my bed anyways?" She looked at Nathan expecting an answer. He looked down at his hands bashfully and was about to respond when Brooke cut him off. "Uh, you know what, I don't want to know," she finished. "Anyways, my mom just left for the tanning salon so you're free to go." Nathan nodded. He felt a sense of sadness at the idea of leaving the Davis residence. He had had a wonderfulexperience spending time with Brooke, being near Brooke, watching Brooke sleep, and talking to her; pretty much anything Brooke-related was fabulous. Even talking about her. But she was right. He had to go. He had stuff to do. It's not like Brooke was the center of his universe. He could survive without her forat least one day. Although the thought of not seeing Brooke for one day drove him nuts. Nathan had lived his life for so long without Brooke being involved, he was used to her absence. Now things were different. He was introduced into a whole new world in which Brooke was in his life. And he couldn't get enough. To think, he had spent so long without interacting with her. Brooke and Nathan walked toward the front door, and he opened it and stepped out onto the porch.

"It's a good thing I thought to park across the street," he pointed to his deteriorating Honda. Brooke nodded greatfully.

"Yeah, my parentswould've went psycho on me if they saw your car in the driveway." An awkward silence passed as the two exchanged glances. "Well," Brooke choked on her words as she gave Nathan's hand a squeeze. Warmth carressed her heart as his touch made her shiver. "I'll see you soon?" she asked. Nathan squeezed her tiny hand in his and nodded.

"Yeah, I'll give you a call tomorrow." Nathan released her hand, and the tension between them subsided.

"Okay. Bye, Tutorboy!" Nathan smiled as walked down the driveway toward his car.

Brooke retreated to her room and fell lazily against her bed. A new scent had replaced her vanilla-scented covers. It was a combined scent of Tommyboy and spices. It smelled just like _him_. The new scent lingered in the air, and Brooke found herself smiling in delight. It was a genuine smile that finally had brought happy times.


	11. Chapter 11

_Well, hello everyone. Remember me? I know it's been awhile since I updated, but I recently found myself caught in a moment of rare free time. I took advantage of that, and wrote this chapter for you all. I actually enjoy this chapter more than any other I have written. Please don't be offended by one of the conversations Mike and Nathan have in this chapter. I am not a homophobe! This issue was used for the characters to play off of one another. So, please don't be offended. As for chapter 10, Brooke's mother insults Mexicans. I am not racist! This dialogue was used to show how heartless Brooke's mother really is. So, please don't be offended. While there are no Brathan scenes, you must, and I repeat MUST, read this. It is a requirement if you are a Brathan fan. You are in for a bombshell. Or whatever you wanna call it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. I will update as soon as I can. And please, **read and review** as always. It motivates me to get these chapters out there faster. Catch you later. _

_Chapter 11_

His voice echoed throughout the walls of their Los Angeles apartment. Nathan squirmed and pulled his pillow over his head in annoyance. The pressure of the pillow barely blocked the noise of his roommate's loathsome voice. "Shut up Mike. I'm trying to sleep," he yelled grumpily as he flipped onto his flat stomach in frustration. Despite his protests, Mike's obnoxious voice bellowed from the shower stall as he sang from the top of his lungs.

"Cause you make me feel. You make me feel. You make me feel like a natural woman!" Mike sang as he massaged a generous amount of soap onto his awaiting skin. In exhaustion, Nathan dozed off with Mike's crooning providing background music. Moments later, Nathan awoke with a startle to discover a black, naked man staring down at him. He became alert and yelped in fright at the sight before him. There stood Mike in all his full glory. He stood in front of Nathan with his hands placed on his hips in an authoritative manner, and Nathan's eyes quickly averted from below Mike's pelvic bone and rested on the towel that was strategically rolled around Mike's bulbous head.

"What are you doing?" Nathan asked in wonder.

"What it look like I'm doin'? I just did me a little freshin' up."

Nathan furrowed his brow and attempted to keep his eyesight on Mike's upper region.

"Dude, you're naked," Nathan pointed out the obvious. "And what's with the towel around your head? Are you auditioning to become a woman? You're bald, Mike!" Mike raised his arm to his wrapped head self-consciously.

"Yeah, I know 'dat. I just did a little moisturizin'. The towel keeps 'da moisture in. I take it off in ten minutes, and my head is softa' than a baby's butt cheek," Mike grinned after he explained his daily beauty regimen. Nathan pretended to understand Mike's bizarre behavior by nodding.

"And you're naked because…"

"Cause I am 'da man," Mike retorted. Nathan chuckled as he sat up in bed.

"And you wonder why people question your sexuality," he shook his head with pity.

Mike gasped in horror at Nathan's jibe, and he folded his arms across his chest defensively.

"Hey, if I was gay, you'd know it. You don't see me walkin' around with a big stick up my ass, actin' all macho, do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means 'dat studies show 'dat most faggots are generally those 'dat fall beneath 'da category of 'da _machismo factor_."

"Machismo what?" Nathan asked dumbfounded. Mike sighed as if Nathan's naiveté was an insult.

"Machismo factor; why if I didn't know betta' myself, I would say 'dat you fell under 'dat category," Mike smiled in satisfaction.

Nathan's eyes widened as he appeared taken aback by Mike's remark. "Are you saying that I'm gay?" Mike shrugged his shoulders.

"Dog, you are 'da classic example of a macho man."

"That doesn't mean I'm gay. And trust me, I am the…" he paused to search for the appropriate word to describe himself and continued, "_ungayest_ guy you will ever meet," he assured Mike in an uncertain tone.

"First off, don't insult Webster's dictionary by giving me 'dat _ungayest_ crap. And second of all, just because I embrace my feminine side, doesn't mean 'dat I am gay. You see where I'm going here, Tree Hill?"

"I guess," Nathan remarked.

"Good," he smiled in contentment.

"But could you just do me one little favor?"

"What's up dog?"

Nathan shielded his eyes and pointed to Mike's southern district. "Could you please put some sort of material over that thing? Before I go blind?"

Mike rolled his eyes and glanced down. He heaved an irritable sigh and reached up to his head to retrieve the rolled towel. After he tactically tied the towel around his tummy, he cleared his throat to capture Nathan's attention.

"Is 'dat better?"

"I don't know. I'm still too scared to look down," Nathan laughed.

"You should be. Little Mike Jr. don't like people who stare for too long," Mike warned. Nathan chortled and his roommate slapped him on the knee in a friendly manner. "So, how about 'goin down to 'da arcade this fine Sunday morn' with yo' heterosexual roommate?"

"I can't."

"C'mon dog; it's a great place to pick up chicks."

"I said I can't," Nathan repeated as towel-clad Mike sat down on his bed.

"Why, you got a hot date or somethin'?" Nathan nearly bounced as Mike's sudden weight pressed against the bed springs.

"I wouldn't say that," he replied as he thought of _her_. _"Although I do wish it was a date,"_ Nathan silently thought to himself. Mike's brain spun into realization as he read Nathan's hopeful expression.

"Hey, you goin' out with fine ass again!"

"For the last time, her name is Brooke. We're just friends. And "no" we're not going out. We have never been out," Nathan removed himself from his bed and opened his drawer in an attempt to locate his socks. When he finally found his favorite pair of socks, he plopped back onto the bed.

"Well, you have been hangin' out with 'dis chick quite a bit. Startin' to make a brotha' feel hopeful. I mean if _you_ can get with something like 'dat, there is hope for mankind." Nathan listened as he adorned his feet with socks. "So, where you guys goin?" Mike raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know. She's dragging me to this movie matinee thing that's showing _The Princess Bride _all day." Nathan shrugged.

"Ahh, your standard chick flick," Mike commented. Nathan nodded his head reluctantly.

"Yeah, she insisted that we go and see it after I made the mistake of telling her that I've never seen it."

"You know why chicks take you to 'dem sort of movies, do you?" Mike asked Nathan, who was in the middle of tying his shoes.

"Yeah, because they like all that _love-dovey_ crap," Nathan replied, stating the obvious. Mike nodded.

"True dat, true dat. But you are overlookin' one very important factor. A girl will only take you to dat' movie if she wants you to kiss her."

Nathan lost track of thought as he heard the word kiss escape Mike's mouth. Suddenly, he couldn't remember the basic process of the bunny-hole method to tie his shoelaces, and a lump entered his throat. With only one shoe tied, Nathan quickly looked up at Mike.

"What?"

"It's true," Mike assured him. Nathan's breaths arrived in inadequate supplies as he struggled to ask the appropriate question. His question nearly came out in a faint whisper, and Mike looked at him curiously.

"How do I know if she wants me to kiss her?"

"That's easy. First, you gotta determine if it's a date or not."

Nathan nodded nervously. He had never been nervous about a potential date, but the idea of Brooke on his arm seemed frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

"How do I do that?" Nathan managed to ask. Mike patted his shoulder.

"Easy, boy. Don't get yo' knickers in a twist. Just sit back and let _the Mike _show you the ropes." Mike flexed his fingers. "A'ight, check it out. When you two go up to the ticket stand and she allows you to pay for 'da movie, then you know it's a date. But here's 'da clincher. Now listen to me carefully, a'ight? You know she wants you to kiss her when she wants to share your popcorn with 'tchu. Think about it. When you both reach into the popcorn cup at 'da same time, yo' hands will touch. And then she'll bat her pretty eyes at ya and smile her dazzlin' smile, and you lean for 'da kill. And 'dat's how ya do it, my friend."

Nathan stared at Mike with his jaw open in bewilderment. "Where did you learn all of that?" Mike smiled at the subject of himself. After all, it was his most favorite subject.

"Granddaddy pimpin' school, baby." Nathan frowned.

"You know, that's a lot of stuff to remember. Maybe I should write a list."

"Da key thing is to relax, baby. Go wit' 'da flow."

Nathan nodded. "The flow; I can do that."

Mike grinned. "Dat's right. You aint got nothin' to worry about. My granddaddy taught my daddy, and my daddy taught me the pimpin' ways. My family comes from a whole generation of pimps, and you are lookin' at the master of all pimps." Nathan laughed.

"Let's just hope you're right," Nathan added.

* * *

The place was in shambles. Every shade of color imaginable lay strewn across the floor in the shape of jackets, skirts, tank tops, and pants. The chaos ensued after she discovered the absence of one measly item: her Badgley Mishka see-through top. She was in a desperate search as she ransacked her drawers and closet, but came up short. Brooke sighed to herself and made a last ditch effort to locate her top, but failed once again. Well, if all else failed, there was always her mother, who frequently borrowed her daughter's clothes without permission. Brooke struggled to push aside the mountain of clothes in the middle of her room and was able to reach the doorway with success. 

"Mom, do you know where my Badgley Mishka top is?" Brooke clamored down the hallway and nearly tripped at the sight of a strange but familiar man lounging in her father's chair with a newspaper in his hands.

"Daddy!" Brooke's face lit up like Disneyland fireworks as she recognized her father. The man in the recliner instantly folded the newspaper at the sound of his daughter's jolly voice. He smiled widely, revealing an even row of teeth. Brooke grinned from ear to ear as she took in her father's handsome face. Brown eyes sat above his rounded nose and broad mouth on a perfectly symmetrical face. His smile divulged laughing wrinkles surrounding his kind eyes. But what had always amazed Brooke was the manner in which he smiled. In fact, it was difficult to distinguish her father's expressions, for he smiled so very little. Frank Davis was an enigma in himself. He reminded her of the painting Mona Lisa, with so much ambiguity surrounding the subject's smile. Her father stood abruptly and discarded the periodical to his chair. And before he could even reply, Brooke engulfed her father in a warm hug. He grinned in delight at Brooke's eager reception. As they parted, it was his turn to scrutinize her appearance, and he smiled gleefully. Her dark hair was swept back into a sleek braid, displaying the prominent features of her face. White slacks clung to her legs, while a white tank top exposed her small collar bone. She was as beautiful as the day she was born.

"You know, I'm gone for a couple of days, and you manage to look even more beautiful then when I last saw you," he placed his hands on his hips. "Now how is that?" Brooke blushed modestly at her father's compliment.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It must run in the family," she added, intending the comment to be an accolade to her father. Her father shook his head.

"Fortunately, you get it from you're mother." Frank sat back down and looked up at Brooke. He cleared his throat awkwardly as if he were conjuring up some sort of dialogue. "So, what's your plan today, princess?" Brooke folded her arms across her chest. _To go to the movies with Nathan_. Now it was her turn to clear her throat.

"Umm, actually, I'm going to hang out with one of my girlfriends," she lied.

Frank nodded. "Oh yeah, have I met her?" he asked as he picked up the newspaper and unfolded it. Brooke's eyes widened in panic; it's not like he even really knew any of her friends. If truth be told, in the entire 16 years the Davis family had lived in the small town of Tree Hill, her father had only ever met Peyton. And _that _was her mistake. It was one of the few times Brooke had actually invited her best friend over to her house. It was another family dinner, and Brooke had made a blunder by inviting Peyton over to meet the folks. She nearly felt as if she were bringing a date. She remembered the night in all its torturous entirety. And she had been foolish enough to believe her parents would be on their best behavior! But lo and behold, her parents pulled a fast one on her, and it resulted in her parents arguing over an unpaid credit card bill. Thanks to them, Peyton got an eyewitness account of her mother throwing silverware at her father from across the dining room table. Brooke could never remember feeling more embarrassed in her entire life. From that day on, Brooke promised herself that she would never ever invite her friends over to her house when her parents were home. It was one of her personal commandments. _"Okay, back to reality," _Brooke thought to herself.

"Not that I know of," she replied innocently as she looked down at her father, who was scanning the baseball stats on the sports page.

"Well then, we must be sure to invite her over to dinner one of these nights, hmm?" Brooke sneered at the thought of another festive Davis dinner. "What's her name?" her father interrupted her thoughts.

"Nath..., oh um, Natalie," Brooke quickly corrected herself. Brooke rolled her eyes. _"Nice one, Brooke." _After reading his daily statistics, Frank placed the paper in his lap and looked up at Brooke and smiled his Mona Lisa smile.

"Well, you and Natalie have a great time," he stuck his fingers in the air to air quote, "_hanging out_, or whatever you kids do these days."

Brooke smiled. Gosh, her father was such a dork when he downgraded himself to a teenager. Actually, he was just a dork in general.

"We will," Brooke called over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs to her room. "Bye daddy!"

"Bye princess," he called from behind her. She sighed as she closed her bedroom door behind her in relief. As much as she adored her father, she despised it when he called her that atrocious name. Brooke looked hopelessly at the piles of clothes that were now her living space. _"If I were a_ _Badgley Mishka top, where would I be?" _she asked herself. _"Aha! The bathroom!" _To her excitement, Brooke's conjecture proved to right, as she had located her top hanging from the inside doorknob of the bathroom door. She cursed herself for being so forgetful at times. The night before, she could distinctly recall placing the top on the doorknob to deliberately wear the next day. So much for her memorization skills.

After putting on her top, Brooke smeared her pout in apple-flavored lip gloss and analyzed the reflection looking back at her in the mirror. She nodded in satisfaction. _"Hopefully, Nathan will like it," _she thought mindlessly to herself. Suddenly, she frowned in confusion at her unruly thoughts of him. _"Wait a minute; why would I care about what Nathan thinks of me?" _she asked herself. But wasn't she like that with everyone? Of course, she cared what everyone thought of her. She had always been like that. It was her greatest strength as well as her greatest weakness. It didn't just pertain to Nathan. _"Or does it?" _she asked herself again. She rolled her eyes and convinced herself that her self-consciousness had nothing to do with Nathan, but managed to convince herself only halfheartedly. What was this sort of affect that Nathan had over her? It was like there was this gravitational pull in his direction, and no matter how she struggled to steer clear of his path, Nathan always seemed to drag her there. Before she could even begin to contemplate her feelings toward Nathan, her cell phone rang, and she reluctantly exited Nathanland. Now, if she could only locate her phone beneath the heaps of clothes strewn about. She paused as she listened for the familiar Nokia tone, and the sound became steadily closer as she approached yesterday's pair of jeans, which sat upon a random pile. She dug through her back pocket and retrieved her cell. With no time to view caller ID, she swiftly answered the call and waited with anticipation to discover the person on the other end.

"Hello?" she spoke in a meek tone.

"Howdy, from North Carolina!" Brooke grinned as she immediately recognized her friend's voice.

"Howdy?" she asked, obviously not impressed with Peyton's greeting.

"Hey it was either that or "_mabuhay," _her friend replied.

"What?"

"It means hello in Filipino," Peyton stated matter-of-factly.

"Hello, do I look like I'm from Filipino?"

"Brooke, Filipinos live in the Philippines," Peyton corrected her friend. Brooke rolled her eyes impatiently.

"Whatever, I didn't know that there'd be a geography quiz every time you called. You know how I like to shut down my brain cells on the weekend," she whined into the phone.

"I thought that you do that everyday," Peyton added sarcastically. Brooke pretend-gasped.

"P. Sawyer!"

Peyton laughed. "Just kidding. I solemnly swear," she held up her hand as if she were under oath, "there will no more lessons coming from this end." Brooke nodded in approval.

"Good. So, what's up blondie?" Brooke found a comfortable spot on a pile of clothes and sat down.

"Eh, you know, the usual for Tree Hill. Actually, I just called to see how you were doing." Brooke beamed at the prospect of talking about herself.

"Actually, I'm glad you called. There was something I wanted to tell you."

"I'm listening," Peyton replied.

"Okay, Doctor Crane, here goes…." Brooke quipped. Peyton giggled at Brooke's wise crack.

"A great barb a la Frasier," Peyton replied in her best French accent. Brooke stifled over in laughter. Just one joke sent this duo into hysterics as Brooke wiped her eyes from tears of laughter. After Peyton's giggles subsided, Brooke spoke.

"You totally have to stop making jokes. I'm wearing white," Brooke pointed out. Peyton nodded.

"Oh, I see," she realized. "You know, you and white just don't complement one another," Peyton finished, referring to Brooke's clumsiness. Brooke raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me about it. I go out wearing white and end up coming back wearing whatever condiment was on the menu that night." Peyton laughed again.

"So, you were saying?" Peyton asked.

"Right," Brooke reminded herself. "If I tell you this, you have to promise not to tell anyone else," she warned.

"Hey, I can keep a secret."

"Since when?" Brooke exclaimed and snapped her finger. "Oh, do you remember that time you told Sally Hatfield that I had an extra toe?"

"Brooke, that was like in third grade," she paused in though and continued, "and besides, you told Donald Duckworth that I never washed my hair. You knew you had that coming," Peyton smirked.

"Yeah, well you stole my Malibu Barbie Doll! And that's why I told Donald Duckworth you never washed your hair," she explained. Peyton laughed.

"Oh my God! I can't believe you're still upset about that. Brooke, that was like eight years ago, and I did give it back eventually."

"Yeah, after you shaved her head," she added, with a hint of mockery in her voice. "She was a limited edition." Peyton attempted not to laugh as she feigned compassion.

"Okay, I'm sorry about shaving your Malibu Barbie Doll's hair," she apologized. Brooke's laughs were uncontainable after Peyton's pathetic apology, and soon both friends were snickering.

"I can't believe we just wasted time talking about some stupid Barbie Doll!" Brooke responded. Peyton smiled, and she cleared her throat subtlety.

"So what's this juicy secret you got that you aren't telling me, hmm," Peyton urged.

"Well, you know how Nathan went to that basketball camp in California?" Peyton nodded. Brooke's voice grew softer as she spoke. Her feathery voice whispered into the phone. "Let's just say, I might have bumped into, well more like tripped over him in LA." Brooke recalled the day she tripped over the basketball at the park and nearly fell into Nathan's arms.

"No way!" Peyton exclaimed, evidently astonished that two people could bump into one another in such a large city.

"Yes way, and we have been hanging out ever since," Brooke excitedly replied back.

"You and Nathan?" Peyton inquired in bemusement. The only time she could recall Brooke and Nathan exchanging words was when she herself was dating Nathan. But those words weren't exactly cordial. As a matter of fact, they were insults.

"I know what you're thinking," Brooke declared, as if she were reading Peyton's thoughts. "We never used to talk, but it's different now. We can actually carry on a conversation without wanting to tear each others' throats out."

"Brooke, that's awesome," she paused in wonder, "but why are you being so secretive about it?" Brooke stuttered as she attempted to answer Peyton's legitimate question. Why was she being so mysterious about her keeping company with Nathan. Perhaps, in the back of her mind she knew the reason for her silence, but she was not ready to admit that fact to herself or to her best friend.

"Well I…"

"Unless you…" Peyton gasped. "Oh my God, you like Nathan!" At the exact moment those words escaped Peyton's mouth, Brooke's world changed. She knew it, and her best friend knew it. A lump formed in Brooke's throat at Peyton's stunning realization. The line remained silent until Peyton broke the stillness. "Brooke, you still there?" she asked as concern filled her voice. Brooke's eyes filled with tears.

"Yeah," she replied quietly.

"Is it true?" Peyton asked. Brooke sat and pondered her friend's question. Was it true? Was it possible? Did she actually like Nathan Scott as more than a friend? A moment passed, and Peyton finally heard Brooke's cracked voice over the phone.

"Yeah, I think I do," she realized. Her voice was full of consciousness as she spoke those words. Peyton raised her eyebrows in shock.

"Wow, that's a first," she added in her deadpan voice.

"Peyton, what am I supposed to do? I'm supposed to go out with him tonight." Her mind panicked at the thought of Nathan seeing her like this. Would he be one of those intuitive guys who could see she had feelings for him by just reading the expression on her face, or would he be one of those dim guys who couldn't read a girl's emotion if it walked up and hit him right in the face. Brooke sighed and prayed for the latter. "Maybe I should just cancel."

"Whoa Brooke, relax; one step at a time," Peyton calmed Brooke's unstable breathing with her soothing reassurances. "The Brooke I know wouldn't just cancel on a friend."

"You're right."

"I know I am. Brooke, you need time to sort out you're feelings. And you're not going to sort out your feelings by avoiding him. There's no pressure. It's not like he's expecting anything. All you have to do is be yourself. And the night will be over before you can say _choo kiko wapi?"_ Brooke sniffled and attempted to rub her eye without smudging her mascara.

"What's that mean?" Brooke asked curiously.

"It means "where are the toilets?" in Swahili," Peyton answered. Brooke giggled.

"P. Sawyer, I don't know what I would do without you." Peyton smiled gratefully.

"Right back at you, bud." Brooke looked over at the raindrop clock and noted the time.

"Anyways, I should get going. I'm supposed to go pick up Nathan to go see a movie." When she received no answer from Peyton, Brooke repeated her statement. "Peyton?" she asked.

"You want to hold him. You want to hug him," Peyton asserted in her sing-song voice. Did her ears deceive her, or was Peyton teasing her. Brooke rolled her eyes as she listened to Peyton's incessant singing.

"Shut up!" she retorted.

Peyton disregarded Brooke's need for silence and continued mocking her in her best singing voice. "You want to hug him. You want to love him." When Brooke decided Peyton wasn't giving in, she herself gave in.

"I'm hanging up now, Peyton!" Brooke warned.

"You want to hug him. You want to squeeze him. You want to kiss…" Peyton's song was immediately disbarred as Brooke finally hung up. She raised her eyebrows and rubbed her temples. _That _would be the last time she would tell Peyton anything of such importance.

**_Please Read and Review_**

_Coming Soon: Brooke and Nathan's "date"_


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